Realm of Souls
by Xodarap
Summary: Sequel to "The Last Slayerette". In the wake of the events on Hardcross Station, Xander finds himself pursuing John Dallas as well as the secrets of the mysterious sword, Soul Vessel, all while trying to adjust to his new life aboard the Discovery.
1. Chapter 1

**Realm of Souls**

By Paradox761

.com/~Paradox761

(BtVS/Sailor Moon/Star Trek/Highlander, Xander/Ami)

Summary: In the wake of the events on Hardcross Station, Xander finds himself pursuing John Dallas as well as the secrets of the mysterious sword, Soul Vessel, all while trying to adjust to his new life aboard the Discovery. A mission to a primitive planet my hold the key to unlocking that mystery, but personality clashes with their new part-demon mission specialist and a chance meeting with another Immortal and a group of mercenaries may complicate things. All the while, John Dallas is planning his endgame.

Author's note: This story is a sequel to "The Last Slayerette", which can be found here - .

(1/?)

USS Discovery (Intrepid class)

Commanding Officer: Captain Ami Mizuno

First Officer: Commander Jamir Tyk

Strategic Operations Officer: Commander Xander Harris

Old Calendar Date: April 12, 2381

Location: Sector 021, Alpha Quadrant

_"Game over, Dallas," Xander said. "You lose."_

_"Never send a vampire to do an Immortal's job," Dallas muttered. "Well then, I suppose I had better cut my losses. While we've been speaking I've uploaded a virus to the station's computer. You have approximately ten minutes before the station self destructs."_

_Xander's head whipped back to where Poz stood at the comm console. The Trill's voice could be heard from off screen. "I can't override, I'm locked out."_

_Xander turned back to Dallas. "You'll destroy the device," he said. "Why go to all this trouble just to blow it up?"_

_"I admit, it isn't the optimal outcome. But if I can't have it, no one will. I'll just have to accept your death as a consolation prize. Besides, I can always build another. If there's one thing that I have plenty of, it's time." He smiled with a maniacal twinkle in his eye. "Adieu."_

"Computer, pause playback," Xander said. He was sitting at his work station in his quarters aboard the Discovery, watching the recording of the final events on Hardcross station for the hundredth time. Trying to find some clue, something that could lead him to Dallas. There was just something about it that he couldn't put his finger on, something that just didn't feel right. He rubbed his eyes with his hand. "This isn't getting me anywhere," he said to himself. "What do you think, Scooby? Am I missing something, or am I just losing my mind?" The ever loyal razor cat didn't bother to lift his head from where it was lying on the top of Xander's foot, he just purred.

"Computer, open personal log," Xander said. The computer beeped in acquiescence. "Begin recording." He sighed, gathering his thoughts. "It's been almost a month now since the destruction of Hardcross Station, and Starfleet Intelligence is no closer to tracking down John Dallas. After leaving DS5, he changed ships at least three times, each time booking passage under a different assumed name. The trail goes cold at a spaceport on P'lonis III, a commerce planet on the outer reaches of the Bolian sector. He could have hopped another ship after that, or maybe he's still there. Or maybe he just disappeared into thin air, I wouldn't put it past him at this point. He's been doing this for a long time, and as crazy as he is, he's good at it. He said that he could build another device, so he must have copies of all of Hardcross' data. The computer experts at SI have torn apart the quarters he stayed in on DS5, poured through the logs of all of his computer activity while he was there, but they've found no trace of a data uplink to another computer. We're just playing catch-up here, and we're not going to find him unless we get lucky, or he sticks his neck out." Xander paused, glancing over his work station at the two swords that hung on his wall. "He has to know that I'm still alive by now. So what is he doing? Biding his time? Making a plan to move against me and recover Soul Vessel? He's got me paranoid. And the worst part is, I know that's exactly what he wants." Xander paused, rubbing his forehead with his fingers and letting out a sigh.

"I'm adjusting to starship life as well as can be expected I suppose. It's a tight knit crew, and I think it's taken them a while to warm up to me. Many of the scientists onboard share Ami's distaste for becoming an errand ship for Starfleet Intelligence, and at first I think they saw me as a threat. But I'm trying to earn their trust. My job, first and foremost, is to use my position and knowledge to keep this ship safe. But Ami is too valuable an asset for SI to just ignore, and lately it seems my job is to run interference for her. I think I've succeeded in showing her and the other scientists onboard that the relationship can be a two way street. This latest mission for example, a scientific investigation to a planet that's been off limits to Federation scientists for nearly two decades, I'm the one who convinced Admiral Colgate that there could be valuable information that could be obtained and put to good use. I think that earned me a few brownie points with the blue shirts." Xander smirked. "Ami hates it when I call them that. Of course, I have to admit, I may have another motive for taking an interest in this particular mission.

"I've been thinking a lot lately about the device that Dallas and Hardcross constructed to store quickenings in Dallas' megalomaniacal attempt at godhood, the sword that I've come to call Soul Vessel. If what they said is true, it could contain something close to one thousand quickenings. The souls of all of the Immortals that Dallas has killed in the last 150 years. I can't help but wonder what it must be like for those lost souls. Are they conscious somehow, aware? Are they suffering? Discovery's best scientists have run every deep sensor scan that they can of the sword and they're still no closer to figuring out how it works. All they can discern is that there is some device in the handle that resembles a capacitor, or a transporter buffer. The quickenings could be stored there like transporter patterns. But as to a power source, or how the quickenings are attracted to the device in the first place we have no idea. Some of the engineers want to take it apart, but considering that we don't know what could happen if the device is damaged, Ami and I agreed that that was a bad idea. The quickenings could be destroyed, or worse yet they could be drawn into me. Dallas said the reaction would be a thousand times greater than a normal quickening, which would surely destroy Discovery. Dallas may believe that he can survive this and evolve into some kind of non-corporeal form, but I'm not so sure.

"There's this…innate feeling of wrongness about the whole thing. I can't really describe it, call it Immortals' instinct. Being beheaded by another Immortal and having my quickening absorbed into them is not an experience that I care to try anytime soon, but there's a natural order to it. It makes sense in a way. Being trapped inside some machine, forever in some kind of limbo, it's just wrong. And I feel like I owe it to these lost souls to make it right. I'm hoping I can find some answers on this mission, and maybe even bring them some peace. End log."

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"Captain's log, stardate 58276.8. We are currently en route to Vulcan to pick up a mission specialist for our next assignment. An old friend, Dr. Rachel Boon. We've been assigned to investigate the Jakul, a pre-warp civilization on the planet Zeta Nu V. Incidental contact was made with the Jakul seventeen years ago, at which time it was observed that they had an unusual psionic ability. Specifically, their death ritual in which visible energy can be seen leaving the body of the deceased and entering into a large stone idol. Federation scientists have been clamoring to study them ever since, however because of the Prime Directive the planet has been off limits. But thanks to the efforts of my new Strategic Operations Officer, we've been granted special permission from Starfleet Intelligence to conduct our investigation. The mission will be considered classified, which means that any direct information that we collect cannot be publicly released. However I believe that the knowledge we gain can still be used to further scientific study in fields ranging from xenobiology to anthropology.

"The Jakul have many interesting characteristics that are rare among pre-warp civilizations. Technologically, they are very primitive. They've yet to discover electricity or metallurgy. And yet, there's no xenophobia and no technophobia. They have religion, but no fundamentalism. They have knowledge of advanced mathematics, architecture, astronomy and many other sciences that would normally be considered beyond a species at their technological level. There is very little violence, and no war to speak of. They are naturally curious and adventurous. The population is centered on the Northern continent of the planet, separated into a dozen or so city states, each with a population of several thousand. The Southern continent of the planet appears to be uninhabited. Each city state contains a geographically centered area which contains the religious temples that service the city, and in the center of that, a stone idol. The origins of the idols are unknown, they appear to predate the rest of the civilization by thousands of years. No one knows who built them or when, or even why. The Jakul have incorporated these idols into their religion, and they appear to share some bond with them. But whether these idols were placed there by another species, or left behind by some other extinct culture from the planet remains unknown.

"But by far the most interesting aspect of the Jakul would have to be their unique psionic abilities. They show signs of telepathy, empathy, and even some telekinesis. The death ritual that was observed especially would seem to prove the existence of a consciousness, or at least some form of energy, that remains after the physical body is deceased. I know that Rachel has been interested in investigating the Jakul ever since she was a cadet, working on her senior thesis and serving aboard the Discovery to earn her field credits. I'm thrilled for her to be able to be a part of this mission, and I'm eager for her and Xander to meet. I know that Xander is hoping that she may be able to help him with Soul Vessel. I think that she may have a few surprises for him. End log."

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"She's part demon?"

Ami smiled. There wasn't much that could surprise Xander these days and the look on his face amused her. The pair were sitting in Ami's ready room, awaiting their arrival to the planet Vulcan. "One quarter, to be precise, on her mother's side. Her father is Betazoid."

Xander's eyes grew even wider. "I didn't realize that was possible. I mean, demons and humans have been interbreeding for thousands of years. In a way, that makes sense. All of the demons on Earth have a touch of human blood, that's how they are able to exist in our dimension in the first place. But a demon and an alien, I've never heard of it happening before."

"Well there aren't very many demons left on Earth, so I can't imagine it's too common," Ami said.

"That's true. After World War III most of the more powerful demons saw it as an apocalypse of sorts, declared victory for themselves and headed back to their own dimensions. Most demons that stayed behind didn't last long after the tech boom that followed first contact. There are only a handful of peaceful demon species still left on Earth, in small localized population centers. And vampires of course, and most of them spread to off world human colonies like ship rats. Do you know what species her mother was?"

"I forget the name," Ami said. "I remember she told me that they were from Australia, that's where she grew up with her mother."

Xander nodded. "The Draz. That makes sense, they've been interbreeding with the Aborigines for centuries. They're tribal, they live in underground colonies, and they keep to themselves mostly. Chaulk white skin, purple eyes, powerful telepaths as I recall."

This time is was Ami's turn to be surprised. "I'm impressed," she said.

"One of my first projects for SI, nearly a century ago was to rebuild the Watchers' library and transfer all the data to computer. They were concerned about what little intelligence they had regarding demons since the council had been destroyed. I practically lived in that library for almost five years. So, how exactly did her parents meet?"

"Her father is an anthropologist, in Starfleet. He was part of a team that was digging in Australia, looking for artifacts when they accidently broke through into a Draz tunnel. He was fascinated by them, especially their telepathy. He stayed with them for years, knowing that none of what he was studying about them could ever be published publicly. That's where he met Rachel's mother and fell in love with her. Rachel was raised in the colony, her father eventually returned to starship duty and she saw him only once every few months until she was thirteen. That's when he convinced her mother to bring Rachel and come live with him aboard ship. Her mother died when she was fifteen, and she stayed with her father after that until she joined Starfleet and went to the Academy. She shared her father's love for anthropology, but her dual heritage gave her a profound interest in xenobiology, specifically telepathic species. I met her when she was a cadet, she was posted to the Discovery for her field assignment. I was taken by how smart she was, and how eager she was to learn new things. And now she's one of Starfleet's leading experts in telepathy and consciousness. Just last year she was awarded a position at the Vulcan Science Academy, head of the xenobiology department. She's the first non-Vulcan to ever be given a department head position at the VSA."

"She sounds perfect for this mission," Xander said.

"No one knows more about the Jakul than her," Ami said. "She's been trying to get on that planet for years. I imagine that she'll be extremely grateful to you for making this happen."

"Just doing my job," Xander said.

"I should warn you though, she can be a bit…feisty." Ami was about to elaborate more when her combadge chirped.

"Bridge to Captain Mizuno," Commander Tyk's voice spoke over the comm channel. "We've arrived at Vulcan. The Science Academy has informed us that our guest is ready for transport. We should be in position in a few minutes."

"Understood," Ami responded. "We're on our way to the transporter room, Mizuno out." She gave Xander a smile. "Care to join me?"

8888888888888888888

Ami and Xander arrived at the transporter room and Xander dismissed the crewman on duty, taking over his station for the moment. This was a classified mission after all and he wasn't taking any chances, not even aboard Discovery. He typed a few commands into the console before placing his hand on the riser controls and moving them up.

The transporter hummed through its cycle and a figure materialized on the platform. It was a woman in a blue Starfleet uniform with lieutenant's pips. She was thin, with curly blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail, alabaster skin and violet eyes. She smiled brightly as she stepped down off the pad and looked at Ami. "Captain Mizuno, it's so good to see you again," she said as the pair hugged.

"Rachel, it's good to see you too," Ami said. "I'm glad you could make time for us in your schedule."

"Are you kidding, for this opportunity I'd move Heaven and Earth."

"Well, let me introduce you to the man who saved you the trouble. This is my Strategic Operations Officer, Commander Xander Harris. Xander, this is Dr. Rachel Boon."

Boon's expression became much more neutral as she regarded Xander and shook his hand. "Commander," she said coldly. She turned back to Ami. "I see that Starfleet Intelligence finally forced you to accept a handler. Your very own pet spy, and I bet he's even housebroken."

Xander was stunned into silence. Ami looked a bit sheepish. "That's not exactly the way it happened, Rachel."

"My apologies Commander if I sound bitter, but I'm afraid that I have little respect for your profession," Boon continued.

"Excuse me?" Xander managed.

"SI has had me chasing my tail these last few years, giving me the runaround on approving my proposal for a duck blind mission on Zeta Nu V. It's all been rather frustrating, trying to get them to understand that the scientific discoveries to be made there are a bit more important than their cold war politicking. As if anything about the Jakul would be of use to our enemies against us. A bunch of paranoid warmongers trying to justify their own existence, sitting in a room somewhere brainstorming on what outlandish scenario is going to be the next plot to overthrow the Federation."

Xander was taken aback. This wasn't at all what he had been expecting. "I think you're over simplifying things a bit, Dr. Boon," he responded.

"No offense Commander, but you would think that. Forgive me, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but the fact of the matter is that the only reason this mission was approved is because of some back room deal, and I'm afraid that I can't bring myself to be happy about that, regardless of the outcome."

Xander gritted his teeth. "Now wait just a minute…"

"Rachel, why don't I show you to your quarters. I'm sure you'll want a chance to review your data before the mission briefing later today," Ami said before Xander could respond.

Boon spared one more passing glance at Xander on her way out of the transporter room, the disdain that dripped from her eyes was palpable, like he was something that she had just scraped off her shoe. Ami waited until she was in the corridor before looking back at Xander. "I'm sorry," she said. "I tried to warn you, she can be…passionate about her opinions."

"To say the least," Xander replied. "To say the most, she's rude, pig-headed and insubordinate."

"That too," Ami agreed. "You know how it is, the more brilliant you are the more eccentricities people will put up with. I'll talk to her."

Xander's mouth suddenly felt very dry. "Feisty," he said, repeating Ami's earlier comment.

Ami gave him a sympathetic smile. "Feisty."

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Ami waited until the two of them were alone in the turbolift before addressing Rachel again. "Let's get one thing straight Rachel. I consider you to be a friend, but you are also a Starfleet officer, and aboard my ship I expect you to act like one. What you did in there was way over the line. Not only is Xander a personal friend of mine, he is a valuable asset to this crew. Like it or not, this is a classified mission and we need Starfleet Intelligence's cooperation to proceed with it. Regardless of your opinion of SI, I expect you to treat superior officers with due respect on this ship. Is that clear?"

Boon looked surprised at first. Then she bit her lip and looked down, looking sufficiently chastised. When Ami finished speaking she stood a little straighter and looked forward, almost standing at attention. "Yes, Sir," she said. She paused, licking her lips again nervously. "Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

"Granted."

She turned and made eye contact with Ami. "I'm sorry, I never meant to disrespect you or your command. I guess I let my frustration get the better of me."

"I understand that Rachel, I do. I still consider myself first and foremost to be a scientist, but science doesn't exist in a vacuum. What you have to understand is that because of what I am and what I know, this ship is an asset to Starfleet Intelligence, and that's a major factor as to why this mission was approved. So whatever back room deal may have taken place, it happened because of this ship's record of successful classified missions. And if you have a problem with that, then you need to let me know now and you can beam back down to Vulcan before we leave orbit."

Boon shook her head vehemently. "No problem, Captain. I'm grateful for this opportunity and I'm extremely eager to meet the Jakul and study them up close."

"I'm glad to hear that," Ami said.

The rest of the turbolift ride passed in silence. They arrived at the correct deck and Ami led the young scientist to her quarters. "Standard guest quarters," Ami said as the two of them entered the room. "I trust that it should be enough space for you. The mission briefing is at 1600. If you need anything else to prepare, access to any of our lab facilities or special computer access, just let me or Commander Tyk know and we can arrange it."

"This will be fine, Captain. Thank you." Ami nodded and turned to go when Rachel spoke again. "Captain, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but I'm curious. The last time we spoke, you told me that you didn't want a SI officer as part of your crew. You didn't want to be beholden to them when it came to your everyday command decisions."

"I didn't want them breathing down my neck, those were my exact words I believe," Ami said with a smile.

"What changed your mind?"

"Xander isn't the boogie man, Rachel. He's not here to make us jump through hoops just to prove that SI is really in charge, or to look over my shoulder and question my decisions. He's here to keep this ship and her crew safe, and he takes that job very seriously. He's an old friend, as I said, and he offered himself for the position because he was looking to make a change in his life, and because he thought I could use his help. He's been with Starfleet Intelligence long enough to know how to cut through the red tape when necessary. But mostly I agreed to it because…I trust him, and I know that he trusts me. He's a good man, Rachel."

Boon nodded. "I understand, Captain," she said.

Whether or not she really did understand, Ami wasn't sure. But there wasn't anything else that she could say. "I'll see you at the briefing then," she said after a pause before turning to go.

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Xander sat at the work station in his quarters, looking over the latest intelligence reports on the region of space that the Discovery was headed for. He was confident that there wouldn't be any trouble, but he wouldn't be doing his job if he wasn't thorough. He did most of his work here in his quarters. He felt more comfortable, surrounded by his things, and Scooby of course. The truth was, he still felt very much like an outsider on this ship. And no one on the crew apart from Ami or Tyk felt the need to change that. He knew that hiding in his quarters wasn't going to make the situation any better, but he had enough on his plate he reasoned, without having to worry about what others on the ship thought of him. The whereabouts of John Dallas, the secrets of Soul Vessel, and of course the mission at hand.

But still, his frustration over his first meeting with their mission specialist, Rachel Boon, was occupying his thoughts and distracting him. He found it hard to concentrate on what he was reading. He just kept picturing her disapproving face, her contempt filled voice. He couldn't help but feel that her attitude was shared by many of the Discovery's crew, that he was some kind of SI attack dog on a choke chain, here to spy on them. How was he supposed to do his job if his own crewmates wouldn't trust him? Xander felt a headache coming on. He stopped reading, lowering his head and closing his eyes he started to rub his temples.

A few moments later, the door chime for his quarters sounded. Xander lifted his head and watched as Scooby, who had by lying on the floor near his favorite chair on the other side of his quarters did the same. The El-Aurian razor cat sniffed the air for a moment before putting his head back down. The reaction told Xander exactly who was at the door. If it had been a stranger, Scooby would have tensed. If it had been Ami at the door, he would have appeared more excited. "Come in, Tyk," Xander called out.

The door slid open and Discovery's first officer stepped it. The tall, olive-complected Trill gave Xander a smile before walking over to the living room area and sitting down in the chair next to which Scooby lay. He rubbed his bald head as he walked, a nervous habit that Xander had observed ever since he had been joined with the Tyk symbiont nearly a month before, like he was a stranger in his own body. Most newly joined Trill experienced some awkwardness in the beginning of their joining, but Jamir was handling it very well Xander thought, considering that he had undergone no training to be joined. He smiled in a way that reminded Xander very much of Romin, Tyk's previous host and Xander's long time partner as an operative with Starfleet Intelligence. He scratched Scooby's head affectionately between his horns. "Good kitty," he said. Scooby purred like a Terran housecat, which to anyone who didn't know him might have looked odd, considering that he was the size of a great dane. The razor cat had taken to Jamir much more quickly then he normally did to strangers. Xander theorized that he could somehow smell the Tyk symbiont, and therefore knew that he wasn't really a stranger after all. Not for the first time, Xander wished that he had his long time companion's nose, his instincts. He was feeling a bit lost at the moment, and he could use those instincts to find his way.

"So, I heard you met our mission specialist," Tyk said. "She's something, isn't she?"

"That's one word for it," Xander answered. "You were aboard Discovery when she was here as a cadet then?"

"I was Chief Tactical Officer then," Tyk answered. "I broke up at least two altercations in the officers' mess involving her. She was never afraid to speak her mind, no matter what anyone else thought, and no matter what their rank. I honestly thought that she was never going to make it out of the academy with that attitude, but I guess talent can get you pretty far, no matter how many feathers you ruffle. The Captain always liked her though, said that she had…what's the word…oh yeah, spunk. She said that a good scientist needed to have their feathers ruffled every once in a while, keeps them thinking outside the box."

"Yeah well, I'm not a scientist and I already know how to think outside of the box," Xander replied. He sighed loudly and shook his head. "Jesus Tyk, what the hell am I doing here? Nobody on this ship wants me here, they don't trust me, they don't respect what I do, Boon was just the first person tactless enough to say it to my face. Maybe I'm not cut out for this job. Maybe I was wrong, maybe this old leopard can't change his spots."

"To borrow a human expression, bullshit," Tyk said. "First of all, you're the intelligence officer on a science ship, that's not exactly something that anyone has been trained for. And there's probably no one more perfect for that assignment than you. No one knows the nuts and bolts of espionage in this quadrant better than you do, no one has the resources and the experience that you do. This ship is damn lucky to have you."

"Well that's not the way it feels. The circles I ran in, no one would ever think to talk to me the way that woman talked to me today. I used to be feared and respected."

"You are feared and respected. You're just not trusted or well liked."

"I'm here to do a job, not win a popularity contest."

"Translation: you have poor social skills. This is not news to me."

"Tyk, I'm serious."

"So am I. And you're not exactly helping your cause, holed up in here all the time. Of course they think you're doing something nefarious, because you act like you're hiding from them. The only time you leave your quarters is to meet with the Captain, behind closed doors, or to walk Scooby around the corridors and see how many ensigns you can make shit their pants. So if you want them to fear you, mission accomplished. But if you want them to trust you, you have to trust them. You have to show them that you're on their side. Look, I'm not saying that it's easy. No one can do what we did for ninety years without it affecting them, without having to shut off a part of your brain just so you don't go crazy. Not even an Immortal. But that doesn't mean that you can't do it. Look at it this way, you didn't always work alone when you were with SI, you worked with a lot of other operatives, many of them me. Just think of this ship as 287 new partners that you need to break in."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Good lord Tyk, if that's supposed to make me feel better you severely missed the mark." Tyk laughed at that, and pretty soon Xander was laughing too. "The difference is that at least in SI, everyone was on the same page. We all understood what the job was. But these blueshirts, they act like the harsh reality of the universe outside of their laboratories doesn't exist. And when I try to protect them, they call me a warmonger."

"I'm not saying that they don't have their heads completely up their asses, they're French kissing their colons to be sure. But you're not going to convince them that you're right by hiding from them. You want to protect them, educate them. They don't trust you, show them that they're wrong."

Xander opened his mouth and then closed it again, wrestling with a particular thought. "French kissing their colons?" he finally said.

"I adlibbed that one, you like it?"

"It's evocative, I'll give you that."

"You're not alone in this fight, Xander. You've got me and the Captain, that's something."

"That's more than something. Thanks Tyk, you're right. I guess the blueshirts aren't the only ones who've had their heads up their ass. When did you get so smart?"

"It came free with my new devastatingly good looks," Tyk said, running a hand over his bald head again.

The two old friends laughed again, and Xander found that he didn't feel quite so alone anymore.

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Xander scanned the conference room from his seat at the table as the mission team filed in and started taking their seats. Starfleet had long ago standardized the makeup of a first contact team, and this team was no different. Ami was already seated at the head of the table with Xander to her immediate right. For this mission she would serve as both contact specialist, and diplomat. The truth was, there wasn't much of a need for a diplomat in this case. Since the Jakul were pre-warp, the prime directive precluded them from signing any kind of treaty or even a non-aggression pact with them. To Xander's right sat Dr. Kydir, mathematician and theoretical physicist. The tall Vulcan sat quietly with his hands resting on the table, waiting for the meeting to begin. In contrast to his right sat Dr. Treezil, the blonde haired Denobulan anthropologist. Her natural sunny disposition and her clear excitement over the mission at hand was evident in the animated conversation that she was having with the person seated next to her, Lieutenant Keevbara sh'Dane. The young Andorian linguist was a fairly new addition to Discovery's crew, predating Xander's arrival by only three months. Still, she was a fine officer and an accomplished expert on language and communication. Across from them Dr. Kur'Woo, the taciturn Efrosian medical officer was listening and nodding as Lieutenant Graav, the boisterous Tellarite geologist spoke loudly. Sitting next to them was the only other person in the room other than Xander who wasn't wearing blue. Lieutenant Commander Kevin Brubaker was the head of Discovery's small Alien Technologies department, and thus he wore engineering gold. He was an expert in analyzing and reverse engineering alien technologies, and had done a lot of the preliminary work studying Soul Vessel, so Xander knew him pretty well. The dark haired engineer looked as uncomfortable as Xander felt, in a room full of chattering scientists. Next to him sat Lieutenant Dennan Tar, ship's counselor. The older Bajoran man seemed content with just watching the room's other occupants, observing how they interacted with each other. Xander didn't know the counselor very well, but he had heard very good things about him. Of course prior to the selection of the mission team, Xander had reviewed all of the team members' personnel files to insure that none of them could be a possible security risk. Xander's role on the team would be to head up the small security contingent that they would take down to the planet with them. Typically that job may have fallen under the prevue of the Discovery's Tactical Officer and Chief of Security, Lt. Gibson, but with Xander's own personal interest in the mission and its classified status, he managed to secure that spot for himself. The last team member was of course Dr. Rachel Boon, xenobiologist and mission specialist, who was seated across from Xander to Ami's immediate left. The two had managed to avoid direct eye contact the entire time they had been in the conference room together, but Xander could see her glancing at him often when she thought that he wasn't looking. Her demeanor seemed more reserved and curious now however than her agitated state in the transporter room. Xander didn't know quite what to make of that.

Xander turned to Ami who nodded toward him indicating for him to start the meeting. He turned back to address the room. "All right people, let's get started," he said. The room slowly quieted down. "Before we start with the briefing I would just like to remind everyone that this is a classified mission, and as such you are not to speak of it specifically to anyone outside of this room. It is important to note however that you are not to edit yourselves in any way with regards to your logs or mission reports. Those logs and reports will also be considered classified until Starfleet Intelligence reviews them and decides what portions are to be declassified. Are there any questions regarding this?"

Lt. Graav spoke up. "How can a mission of scientific discovery be classified? What I mean is, what is the point of gathering information on the Jakul if we can't share it with anyone?"

Xander expected this question, and he wasn't surprised in the least that Graav was the one who raised it. Tellarites were notoriously argumentative. Ami answered the question before Xander had the chance to.

"The data that we are hoping to gather on Zeta Nu V is going to keep Federation scientists busy for years to come and lead to discoveries in everything from physics to medicine. And what we do here now will lay the groundwork for those discoveries. I cannot overstate the importance of that. You need to trust me when I tell you that the information will end up where it needs to, it just needs to pass through the proper channels first. I know that many of you are not fond of that answer, but what you need to remember here is that any contact with the Jakul at all is in direct violation of the prime directive. We're being given tremendous leeway here."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain," Dr. Treezil spoke up. "But isn't the main purpose of the prime directive to keep us from interfering with the natural evolution of pre-warp species? In this case that point seems moot, firstly since incidental contact has already been made and second, since the Jakul are xenophiles and naturally curious, far from interfering with their evolution, the knowledge of life outside of their planet has only strengthened their belief system."

"Another example of Starfleet Intelligence following the letter of the law rather than the spirit," Boon said.

"We have laws for a reason," Lt. Commander Brubaker said. "We're a civilized society and people don't get to pick and choose which laws they follow and which they don't. If everyone did that we'd have chaos."

"We're not talking about everyone," Boon commented.

"So, special rules for special people, is that what you're saying?" the engineer added.

"What I'm saying is that only a fool deals in absolutes," Boon said.

"That's enough!" Ami said forcefully. "I will not let this briefing turn into a political debate. We have a job to do here, and we're going to do it professionally, without letting our personal feelings interfere, is that clear?" There were nods all around the room. She glanced at Xander and he could see the frustration in her eyes. He could tell that they were both thinking the same thing, that this so-called favor that he had done by getting this mission approved was on the verge of becoming a disaster. "Rachel, why don't you start with your presentation."

Boon nodded and stood from her chair, walking over to the large screen that sat behind the Captain. Ami turned her chair to see as she began her presentation. "The Zeta Nu system was discovered and catalogued ninety-seven years ago by a standard Starfleet survey mission. At the time, life signs were detected on the fifth planet, but since there was no sign of any advanced technology, they simply took some basic scans of the planet and moved on. It wasn't until seventeen years ago that contact with the Jakul was made, by a civilan Federation freighter, the S.S. Pennsylvania. The ship was travelling through the system when they experienced a complete engine failure. A warp core breach was imminent, so the captain ordered evacuation to the nearest M-class planet they could find. The escape pods set down just outside of a Jakul village on the Western coast of the Northern continent. They had managed a distress call before their ship was destroyed, but at the time they had no way of knowing if anyone had received it. The escape pods only had short range communications abilities, so the survivors were not very hopeful of a rescue. Out of desperation, they made contact with the Jakul.

"To their immediate surprise, the Jakul were not afraid of them or hostile toward them in any way. They welcomed the survivors, feed them, sheltered them, and showed a great curiosity in them. All of the debriefing reports from the Pennsylvania's crew tell the same story. They wanted to know more about who we were, our culture, our technology, our way of life. Not because they wanted to emulate it or because they thought we were superior to them, but because in their culture they revere the new and the unknown. Simply put, they love to learn."

"Truly fascinating," Treezil interjected. "In almost all of the primitive cultures that I've studied, there's an aversion to change, to things that are new and different. Anything that changes the paradigm of the universe as they understand it is upsetting and is usually met with fear and anger."

"It's true," Boon continued. "This is one of the things that make the Jakul so unique. We believe that it is this attitude and natural curiosity that leads to one of the other extraordinary things about them, and that's a rather advanced knowledge of science and mathematics. Technologically speaking, they aren't very advanced at all. The tools and construction materials they use are wood and stone, in some cases animal bone or sinew. They can weave fibers together to make simple cloth, and they have a primitive system of agriculture. But their understanding of the natural world around them is exceptionally good. Botany, biology, geology, astronomy, geometry, pharmacology, animal husbandry, even mechanical engineering, all far more advanced than our scales tell us they should be for their technological level.

"Even to laymen such as the crew of the Pennsylvania, it was clear that the Jakul were extraordinary. We're extremely lucky that the freighter's captain, Alton Baker, had a particular interest in documenting what he saw and experienced. As luck would have it, he had a recording device with him, and so we have visual and audio records of much of what the freighter crew experienced. Let's start simple." Boon pressed a button on the PADD she was holding and the image on the large screen behind her changed to that of a rather tall and thin looking humanoid, with ocher skin and long dark hair. His facial features looked almost human, except for a boney ridge that protruded from around his eyes. "The Jakul are humanoid and they average between two to two and a half meters in height. Their skin tones vary from deep red to charcoal gray. This is an image of an adult male, approximately twenty-four standard years old. The average lifespan is estimated between seventy and seventy-five standard years. As you can see, clothing is very utilitarian. They have the ability to tan animal hides to make leather, but the leather is used sparingly as it isn't easy to make. The tunic that he is wearing is woven from a fiber that comes from a plant that they have learned to cultivate to make clothing and blankets. You'll notice around his neck, a rather long necklace with various trinkets attached to it. Icons made of carved wood or stone, in some cases semi-precious stones. These icons can symbolize a great many things, from the wearer's status in the village, his chosen profession, information about his family, or they could symbolize great experiences that he's had in his life."

"Are the symbols carved into these icons representative of the Jakul written language," Lt. sh'Dane asked, squinting to get a closer look at the image on the screen.

"We believe so, yes," Boon answered. "There are a few more examples in the visual records, but we don't have enough of a sample to decipher and decode it. It does appear to be a symbol based language, similar to hieroglyphics or Vulcan script. We'll be making all of these records as well as any other mission data that we have available to all of your personal databases, so please feel free to acquaint yourself with the material before we arrive at the planet."

"Do they have any organized religion?" Counselor Dennan asked.

"Of a sort," Boon answered. "Though I wouldn't call it a religion as much as a…belief system. They have a system of values, morality, social mores, and these are things that they cling strongly too. However they don't worship a deity, or follow a strict dogma, or practice any sort of fundamentalism. There is a certain ritualistic side to it, however most if not all of the practices focus on community, family, bringing people together and sharing experiences. If there is one shared trait among the Jakul, it would have to be the reverence that they show to new and different experiences."

"Yes, yes, this is all very fascinating," Lt. Graav spoke up, his tone of voice indicating that he found it anything but. "But would it be possible for us to skip ahead a bit to the heart of the matter? The reason that we are all here. I doubt that Starfleet Intelligence approved this mission for us to study the Jakul culture."

Boon looked annoyed, but glanced at Ami. The Captain simply nodded to indicate that she should proceed. "Very well," she said, smiling to try and hide her irritation. "The heart of the matter, as you put it, is actually tied in to all of this. The Jakul belief system, as I said, does center mainly on values and morality, but many of its more ritualistic aspects center around this." Rachel tapped a command into her PADD and the image on the screen changed again, this time into a large stone obelisk. "Each one of the dozen or so population centers on the planet appears to be built around one of these stone spires. From what we can tell, they are millions of years old, and they weren't built by the Jakul. Thousands of years ago, primitive Jakul were drawn toward these icons, and they settled near them. They share some sort of bond with these stones, though exactly what the nature of that bond is we're not sure. The Jakul describe a comforting feeling that they receive when they are near the idol. A feeling of well-being, and a connection to something greater than themselves. They have a word for it, it doesn't really translate. They call it the Kob'ya. The crew of the Pennsylvania observed some evidence that the Jakul may be partly telepathic, so it's possible that the connection they feel is based on that somehow. None of the freighter crew were telepathic, so they couldn't say for sure. Hopefully we'll know more once we've had a chance to study one of them up close."

"And how do these obelisks incorporate into the Jakul religion?" Counselor Dennan asked.

"The Kob'ya is central to their culture, it fosters the bond that they feel not only to the universe but to each other as well. We believe that this is the central factor in the rather strange evolution of their culture. As for ritualistically, the main function of the spires however is that the Jakul believe that they function as a gateway of sorts to what they call…the Realm of Souls." Boon paused, the reverence in her voice was unmistakable. "The afterlife."

For a moment, silence seemed to fill the room like smoke. Unsurprisingly, Graav was the one who broke it. "The…afterlife," he repeated. "This is why Starfleet Intelligence has chosen to break the prime directive, to send us chasing after ghosts?"

Boon just smirked and pressed a button on her PADD. "Watch this," she said.

The main screen changed to a video feed that looked to be taken from a small handheld device. Many voices could be heard talking over each other. There was a small group of humans surrounding the person filming, and in the distance a large group of Jakul could be seen. After a few moments, the voices all became silent as the video focused on a procession of Jakul, carrying a body on a wooden plank. The body was dressed all in white. The video followed the group until they reached a stone altar, where they set the body down. The video then panned up to show that the altar was located at the base of a stone obelisk, much like the one in the image that Boon has showed earlier. All but one of the Jakul stepped away from the alter, they bowed their heads as they moved. At that moment the video pulled out to show hundreds of Jakul gathered around the obelisk, all of them on their knees staring up at the great stone idol. The single remaining Jakul kneeled directly in front of the altar, he bowed his head and he placed his hands on the front of the stone. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but strong. The words were alien, the universal translator apparently unable to make any sense of them. After a few moments, he stopped and raised his head. A ball of light emerged from the chest of the deceased man. Somewhere off camera somebody gasped. The ball of energy floated up into the air, circling around the stone spire, until about halfway up when it disappeared inside of it. For a second, the entire obelisk seemed to glow, and then it faded. The gathered crowd burst into cheers. A few moments later, they lifted the corpse into the air again and carried it off. Somewhere off camera, presumably Captain Baker said, "That was incredible. I have never seen anything like that in my entire life." There was a plethora of muddled agreements, and then the video ended.

"What you've just seen is the Jakul death ritual, as recorded seventeen years ago by Captain Alton Baker," Boon said. The conference room was stunned into silence. "The implication is clear I think. Throughout my career I have studied hundreds of different species. Nearly all of them have some sort of religion in their past or present, and almost all of those religions share the concept of a form of consciousness that exists separately from the physical body, something that survives death. The soul, katra, pagh, there are many words for it. I've spent most of my professional life trying to prove that it exists, and I believe that what we have here is exactly that."

The silence gave way to chaos as everyone seemingly began talking at once.

"Intriguing," Kydir said simply.

"Could this be some kind of natural phenomenon related to the planet, like the Bak'u homeworld in the Briar Patch?" Graav speculated?

"Maybe this is a natural part of their biology," Dr. Kur'Woo said. "Some sort of post-mortem discharge of neural energy."

"Or it could be technological," Lt. Commander Brubaker added. "We don't know what's inside those spires, it could be some sort of a device that is collecting energy somehow."

"All of those theories and probably a dozen more have been postulated," Boon interrupted. "The short answer is, we simply do not have enough information to say for sure one way or the other. Which is why this mission is so important."

"What about you, Dr. Boon?" Counselor Dennan asked. "Do you have a theory? Do you really think that what we've just seen could be the pagh leaving the body?"

"I am a scientist, first and foremost," Boon said. "I don't want to give any of you the wrong idea, that I'm some sort of religious crusader."

"Do you believe that science and religion have to be mutually exclusive?" Dennan asked.

"No, I don't. I believe that the commonality among religions that I spoke of earlier is proof of that. Proof that there is something real to it all. And I think that a discovery like this could very well go a long way to proving that to a lot of other people as well."

"Is there a particular hypothesis that you're leaning toward, Rachel?" Ami asked.

Boon nodded. "You are all no doubt familiar with the theory of universal evolution." The scientists in the room all nodded. "For the laymen among us I'll explain, it's rather simple." Xander resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her patronizing tone. "The theory attempts to explain why it is we see so many similarities among different species all over the galaxy. Some believe that the so-called Progenitor race is a common ancestor, and that millions of years ago they seeded planets with life all across the galaxy. But the UE theory is much simpler, stating that the reason we are all so similar, why life has evolved so similarly on so many different worlds is because life itself is the constant. That evolution itself is a natural process, like fire or gravity, and so it can be expected to behave in predictable patterns. Fish, birds, reptiles, mammals, and finally humanoids, all evolving the same way with minor variations to suit differing environments.

"Now a colleague of mine at the VSA has postulated an extension of this theory. We're all familiar with the handful of non-corporeal species that the Federation has had contact with over the centuries. Beings that can exist without form, or who can create a form of their choosing at their whim. Beings of immense power like the Q, or the Dowd. So what if this state of being is nothing more than another step in our evolution, all of our evolution? What if this consciousness that exists within us all, this force that can exist after the death of the physical body, the soul if you will, what if it exists because we are destined to one day evolve into beings that will exist without physical bodies at all. I think that these obelisks were left behind by a race of people who have already made this evolutionary jump, as a…signpost of sorts. To show us the way."

88888888888888888888888

Newton's Loft. That was the name of the crew lounge on the Discovery. Whether Ami had given it that name or it had been named that before she took command of the Intrepid-class vessel Xander didn't know. Either way it seemed fitting for a science ship he thought. It was considerably larger than a standard mess hall would be for a ship this size. Xander didn't know if the new lounge had been part of the so-called Voyager refit that all Intrepid class vessels had undergone several years before to take advantage of some of the modifications the lost ship had made during its time in the Delta Quadrant, or if it had been a custom modification for a different reason, but the crew certainly enjoyed the increased space.

Xander sat at a table in the corner eating his dinner, alone. Solitude was a funny thing, he thought to himself. At first it seemed like a curse, but after a few centuries it had turned into more like a bad habit. Reconnecting with people he cared about was one thing, but becoming part of a crew again, that was proving to be a different story. It was true, most of the crew was distrustful of him. But Tyk had been right too, he hadn't made it any easier on himself. He needed to make an effort. So here he was, he thought to himself. This is making an effort. A few crewmembers glanced his way, but none made eye contact. He tried to project a friendly demeanor as he people-watched, but of course he had no idea if that was how it was being perceived. He noticed not one other red uniform, or even gold. Newton's Loft seemed to be the domain of the scientists. Perhaps Xander wasn't the only one who wasn't welcome here.

Xander picked at his replicated chicken marsala. The chicken was rubbery and bland, and the sauce had a very little flavor. Cartoon food, he thought to himself. That's what replicated food always made him think. The colors were always a little too bright, the textures a little too uniform, and the taste always had a note of artificiality. Very few people these days had any problem with replicated food, or could even tell the difference at all. Eating it always made Xander feel like a throwback. It bothered him, and it was part of the reason that he preferred eating alone.

"Mind if I join you?"

Xander looked up to a sight that he hadn't been expecting at all. A smiling, grandfatherly face with nasal ridges. "Not at all, Counselor. Please, have a seat."

The Bajoran set his glass down on the table and took the seat opposite Xander. "We don't often see you here at the Loft," Dennan said. "In fact, I don't think I've seen you anywhere off duty. Except maybe in the corridors between your quarters and the holodeck, walking your…pet. How is he adjusting to starship life?"

"Scooby is doing very well, getting plenty of exercise. He's quite good at adapting to new situations, and he doesn't mind being on his own for long periods of time."

"Good, that's good. I know how constricting starship life can be, especially to those who aren't used to it. It's important to stay active, to enjoy new experiences and not to fall into old patterns."

"Are we still talking about my cat?" Xander asked, somewhat playfully.

"What do you think?" Dennan countered.

"Why do counselors always answer questions with another question?"

"And how does that make you feel?" The Bajoran laughed and took a sip from his drink. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"How is Tyk doing?" Xander asked, changing the subject. He knew that his friend had been seeing the counselor ever since his impromptu joining. He knew that Dennan wouldn't tell him anything specific regarding their counseling sessions, but it seemed like a safe enough topic and a way to steer the focus off of himself.

"He's doing very well, remarkably well considering that he's had virtually no initiate training. But he's got a good support system here. Having you here especially, a tie to his previous hosts, I think that helps quite a bit."

Xander nodded. "I'll do whatever I can. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to adjust to, all of that going on in your head, trying to sort through it all."

"You've got quite a bit going on in your head as well I would imagine," Dennan said. "Living the life you have for as long as you have, and now trying to put it behind you somewhat. He worries about you, you know. In a way, he knows that your adjustment must be even harder than his. He already has ties to this ship, a life here. You're starting from scratch."

"Like you said, I've been doing this for a long time. I've learned how to deal."

Dennan put his hands up. "I'm just making the offer. If you ever need anyone to talk to, my door is always open."

Xander smiled despite himself. "No offense, but the day I meet a counselor that has high enough security clearance to hear what's in my head, I'll eat my combadge."

Dennan smirked at that. "Suit yourself, Commander," he said. "The offer still stands."

"I appreciate that, Counselor. Thank you," Xander said cordially.

"Now that that's out of the way, I'm curious to hear your thoughts about our upcoming mission. Do you think Dr. Boon is going to find what she is looking for?"

Now that was someone that Xander was actively trying not to think about, and yet he seemed to be failing in that regard because he found that he immediately had an opinion. "I'm not sure that she would be satisfied no matter what we found."

"How do you mean?"

Xander shrugged. "It's always seemed to me that the most profound scientific discoveries are usually made by scientists that come to the situation with no expectations. But when you theorize and agonize and…obsess, you give yourself a stake in the outcome and you lose your objectivity. And that's where bad science comes from. At least, that's what I always thought. But what the hell do I know? I don't understand these scientist types."

"You think that Dr. Boon is obsessed with the Jakul?" the Counselor asked.

"I think that she's more interested in proving herself right then she is in really finding out what's happening on that planet. I think that she's willfully ignoring the political issues that are at play here just so she can feel morally superior in her little science cocoon."

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Dennan surprised him for the second time that evening, this time by laughing good naturedly. He picked up his drink and stood. "Two more things I want to tell you before I leave you to your dinner. The first is that I think you understand scientists far better than you give yourself credit for. At least, scientists like Boon."

"And the second thing?"

"If I have to be on this away team, I'm glad that you're going to be there too. Have a good night, Commander. Try to get some sleep, you look like you could use it." And with that the Counselor left Xander sitting there, slightly confused with his plate of cartoon food.

88888888888

P'lonis is the next nearest star to the Bolian system, roughly six lightyears away. The four planets that orbit it were the first extrasolar planets discovered by the Bolian people, hundreds of years before they developed warp travel. So when it was discovered that the third planet in the system was M-class, it seemed the natural choice for the first off-world colony. It was once a thriving place, with millions of people living there. It was the center of commerce for the entire sector. But when the Bolians joined the Federation, P'lonis became less important to their economy, gradually degrading into nothing more than a pit stop on the way to the home system. Only a few thousand call it home now, all of them living near the spaceport. They are a poor and desperate people, surviving by whatever means necessary. Few travelers venture outside of the spaceport, and those who do usually meet a violent encounter of one kind or another. But then, John Dallas isn't an ordinary traveler.

It was an irony of sorts, and one that was not lost on Dallas. He abhorred chaos, and yet this was precisely the type of environment in which he thrived. There was virtually no law to speak of outside of the walls of the spaceport. Violence was the currency of choice. People in places like this kept to themselves and knew when to mind their own business. He stood virtually no chance of being found here by anyone who might be looking for him. As long as one could take care of themselves, they would be safe here. And John Dallas could more than take care of himself.

He had been stuck on this forsaken rock for over a month now, waiting for the information that he needed to continue with the task ahead. And tonight was the night that he was finally going to get it. It was dark, and Dallas was walking alone down a desolate trash strewn street, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long overcoat. He passed under one of the few working streetlights as he approached a corner, and he heard a voice call out.

"Don't move!"

Dallas causally turned to see a young Bolian man holding an energy weapon of some kind step out of the shadows. He was shaking, either out of fear or from withdrawal from whatever chemical substance that he was dependant on. His face was grimaced in an expression that he was trying to make intimidating, but in reality was more pathetic than anything else.

"Give me everything you have! Currency, jewelry, and I'll take that coat too!"

"You sure you want to do this, son?" Dallas asked calmly.

"I ain't your son old man, now hand it over!"

Dallas slowly removed his hands from his coat pockets and held them up to show the Bolian mugger that they were empty. The blue-skinned thug seemed to visibly relax as he assumed that the human was going to cooperate. What happened next happened so quickly that Dallas wondered if the Bolian ever saw it coming. Dallas went for his gun, a revolver that he currently carried in a shoulder holster under his coat. He drew it and fired two rounds into the Bolian's chest in less than half a second. The look of shock on the young man's face remained frozen as his body crumpled to the ground, dead. A large dark blue blood stain quickly spread across his chest. The energy weapon clattered to the ground, the only sound that could be heard on the quiet street apart from the echo of the gun shots. Dallas knew that even if anyone else happed to be nearby, they would not recognize the sound and wouldn't react to it. No one carried firearms anymore. Even though that fact benefitted him, it still saddened him in a way as well. It reminded him that even as he was trying to usher in a new future, he remained a relic from a distant past, long forgotten by most.

"Still doing things the messy way, eh John?" a voice spoke from the shadows.

Even though Dallas hadn't heard anyone approach, he wasn't surprised. He recognized the voice. From around the corner where Dallas had been heading, a tall man with blue skin stepped into the light from the street lamp. But this man wasn't Bolian, his white hair and antenna gave away that fact. He had a wicked scar that ran down his forehead to his left eye and then below it again on his cheek, and he offered a crooked grin as he scratched at it. Dallas didn't look up right away, keeping his gaze on the Bolian who was quietly bleeding out on the street. After a few seconds, he replaced the gun in his shoulder holster and looked up at this new arrival.

"I was waiting for you down the street when I heard the shots," The Andorian said. "I knew that it had to be you. Wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Your concern is touching, Tev," Dallas said. "Even though I'm sure that what you're really worried about is your money, and not my wellbeing."

"Never hurts to protect an investment," Tev said with another crooked grin. "Why do you still carry those ancient things anyway? Phasers and disruptors are so much…" he paused as he looked down at the dead Bolian street thug. "Neater," he finished.

"Too neat," Dallas commented. "If you're going to kill a man, you ought to feel the kick from your weapon, see the blood from the hit. It lets you know that you've done something powerful. Pushing a button and vaporizing a person, it's not right, it's too easy. It's…uncivilized."

"You're an unusual man, John," Tev said vaguely.

"I'm an old soul," Dallas answered.

"We'd better get inside before someone sees us or discovers your friend over there. Come on, there's a bar just down the street."

Dallas followed Tev around the corner and down about a block to the entrance of the bar. It was an old heavy wooden door with no markings on the outside. They stepped inside to find a dark barroom with a dozen or so people inside, mostly Bolian. There were ramshackle tables scattered around the room with a long bar along the wall by the door. There was a wizened old Bolian with a pot marked face standing behind the bar, cleaning a glass. His was the only face that looked up when the door opened, the others simply continued their conversations or stared down at their drinks, trying to continue with whatever illegal business they had of their own, or forget the troubles of their dismal lives. It was places like this that the average person from Earth didn't think still existed within the Federation. But every system of order has its seedy underbelly of chaos, Dallas thought. The illusion of control was almost worse than total anarchy in his opinion. It was a hypocrisy, and it drove him even more to complete his plan. Once he was a god, there would only be one kind of order. His.

The pair sat down at the nearest table in the corner of the bar and Dallas wasted no time getting down to business. "Do you have the name of the ship?" he asked.

Tev nodded. "It wasn't easy, Starfleet uses a ninth level encryption algorithm on all of their comm traffic, breaking that encryption…"

"Spare me the details and just give me the name," Dallas interrupted.

Tev frowned. Had it been anyone else he might have taken offense, but the truth was he was afraid of John Dallas, and the last thing he wanted to do was antagonize him. "USS Thunderchild."

Dallas smiled, which the Andorian found an unnerving sight. "And the rest?"

Tev reached into his coat and pulled out a data rod, sliding it across the table. "As far as the required…wardrobe, I'm afraid I can't…"

"You don't need to worry about that my friend," Dallas said with a smile as he placed the data rod in his inside coat pocket. "I appreciate your work Tev, and as always, your discretion."

"Of course John, you know how much I pride myself on professionalism. Now, about my payment."

"No need to worry Tev, you're going to get exactly what you have coming to you."

The Andorian didn't have enough time to register Dallas' statement as a threat before he heard the gunshot and felt a bullet rip through his abdomen. The only thing that he could think about was the look on that Bolian street thug's face as he lay dying, and how an all too similar look must be currently on his own face. Dallas took his hand out from under the table, still holding the gun that he had shot Tev with.

"I'm sorry old friend, I really am," he said, leaning in and whispering to the dying Andorian in an almost conspiratorial way. "But my endgame is coming soon, and I'm afraid that I can't leave any loose ends. I'm sure you can understand."

Tev slumped forward against the table, dead. Dallas calmly stood from his chair, careful not to step in the growing pool of blood that was forming beneath his former associate. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few strips of gold pressed latinum and dropped them on the bar in front of the stunned bartender. "Sorry about the mess," he said, before he calmly walked out of the bar and disappeared into the night.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Realm of Souls**

By Paradox761

(BtVS/Sailor Moon/Star Trek/Highlander, Xander/Ami)

Summary: In the wake of the events on Hardcross Station, Xander finds himself pursuing John Dallas as well as the secrets of the mysterious sword, Soul Vessel, all while trying to adjust to his new life aboard the Discovery. A mission to a primitive planet my hold the key to unlocking that mystery, but personality clashes with their new part-demon mission specialist and a chance meeting with another Immortal and a group of mercenaries may complicate things. All the while, John Dallas is planning his endgame.

Author's note: This story is a sequel to "The Last Slayerette", which can be found here - s/6203427/

(2/?)

"The village is called T'lyth," Dr. Boon said to the assembled away team that was gathered in the transporter room. "It's the same village that the crew of the Pennsylvania visited seventeen years ago. We're hoping that some of the Jakul there will remember the encounter and we'll get a similar welcome." She was showing them an overhead map of the village on the wall console near the transporter pad. "There's an area here, on the edge of the village near this wooded area, it's almost like a town square. Travelers are meant to enter there to show that they are friendly, so they can be welcomed. We should beam in a few hundred meters from the village and take this road here, so we can be seen entering."

"What about our equipment?" Brubaker asked. He and a few other members of the away team had quite a bit of equipment that they were bringing along, hopeful that they would get a chance to use it to analyze the stone spire or in the case of Dr. Kur'Woo, the Jakul themselves.

"We can leave it here and beam it down after we make contact. I think it's important that we don't try to hide any of our technology from them. We can use their natural curiosity to our advantage, and the risk of cultural contamination is negligible."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Xander muttered to himself.

"To what extent, Doctor?" Brubaker asked. "I mean, if they ask to play with one of our phasers are we supposed to let them accidently vaporize themselves?"

Boon knitted her brow and shot the engineer a sour look.

"Use your discretion, Commander," Ami put in. "Just try to not make it look like we're trying to hide anything from them. We are trying to build a trust here."

Brubaker nodded. "Aye, Captain."

"Coordinates are entered, Captain," the transporter operator said. "We're ready when you are."

"Security team, we're up first," Xander said, stepping up on the platform followed by six large security officers with phasers on their hips.

"Is that really necessary?" Boon asked.

Xander checked the charge on his own phaser before replacing it in the holster on his waist. "I don't tell you how to do your job, Doctor. I would appreciate the same courtesy. Energize."

Zeta Nu V was a temperate planet, at least at the latitude where they had beamed in. Xander found himself standing in a large clearing. Thick grass covered the forest floor, and tall trees swayed in the breeze. The air smelled fresh and clean and the sun felt warm on his face. Xander closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the moment. He hadn't realized until just then how cooped up he had felt on Discovery. He made a mental note to bring Scooby here if he got a chance before they left. The security team fanned out and ran scans with their tricorders. A few seconds later they each nodded their assent to Xander that there was no danger in their immediate area. Xander allowed himself a few more seconds to enjoy the peacefulness before he reached up and tapped his combadge.

"Harris to Discovery, landing site is secure. Initiate transport." A moment later, nine figures materialized out of thin air. Ami stepped forward and gave Xander a reassuring smile. "Captain, welcome to Zeta Nu V."

"It's beautiful," Ami said, looking around.

"And me without my picnic basket," Xander joked with a smile.

"Captain," Boon interrupted. "I'd like to request that the security team remain outside of the village. I don't want to scare the Jakul or give them the impression that we don't trust them."

"I'd like to bring two in with me," Xander said. "I can station the rest outside."

"That'll be fine," Ami said. Boon still looked annoyed but she didn't say anything else.

The group started down the simple road that lead to the Jakul village. Most of them seemed excited, but a few were apprehensive. Xander couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he had a bad feeling about something. Maybe it was just the personality clashes among the away team that made him nervous about them working together, maybe it was the blatant violation of the Prime Directive here. He had seen some contact missions go bad in the early days of Starfleet when there was no standard procedure in place. He couldn't help but feel that if things did go badly, he would be the one responsible here. He was the one who got SI to bend the rules and approve this mission. It was a little late for cold feet now, he chastised himself. It was time to focus on his job, to keep these people safe and to keep this mission from becoming a disaster.

When the village came into view, the first thing Xander noticed was the stone spire. It was at least twenty meters tall and towered over everything else in the village. The closer they got he started to see other structures as well. A few of the larger ones were made from stone or logs, but most were smaller dome shaped dwellings that resembled wigwams. The Jakul moved about, some carrying earthenware jugs, others pulling small wooden wagons filled with goods. He saw what looked like a market, with bins full of fruits and vegetables and a pen with livestock. And then he saw something that made him look twice. It was a man standing in front of one of the stone buildings, swinging a hammer down again and again, striking something with it. The clang of metal on metal filled the air.

"Is that what I think it is?" Xander asked, leaning forward to the front of the group where Ami and Boon were walking.

"A blacksmith?" Ami said.

"I thought they didn't have metallurgy," Xander said.

"They didn't," Boon confirmed. "They could have been exposed to it by the crew of the Pennsylvania. There's no specific mention of it in the reports, but I imagine the Jakul would have seen metal parts on their clothes or equipment."

"So they went from seeing metal to forging their own metal tools in seventeen years?" Xander asked.

"I told you they were special," Boon bragged.

"And seventeen years after we leave, what will they have then? Tricorders, phasers? How will that affect their culture?" Xander speculated. "I think the risk of contamination here is higher than we thought."

Ami and Boon both looked at him. Boon with horror and Ami with concern. "Let's press on for now," Ami said.

Xander turned to his small security team. "Jenkins and Sopel, you're with me. The rest of you stay by the tree line and keep your eyes open. Anything unusual report it to me immediately, understood?" Xander was met with nods as the team dispersed and took their positions.

The rest of the group continued the rest of the way to the village, where they were met with a great amount of excitement by the locals. They stared and gasped with amazement, whispering among themselves. For a while they seemed content to just gape at the new arrivals, until finally one of them approached. He had deep red skin and dark green eyes, which remained opened wide. He looked young, but from the large wood ornament that hung from his neck proudly, Xander guessed that he held a position of some importance.

"My name is Kober, I am the village herald," he spoke nervously. "I welcome you graciously to T'lyth, may the time you spend here be fulfilling." He placed his hand flat against his forehead, palm out, and bowed slightly in what must have been a greeting gesture.

Boon, who still stood at the front of the group next to Ami, returned the gesture. "Thank you," she said. "We are travelers from a faraway place, and we seek an audience with your village elders."

Xander leaned forward and whispered to Ami. "Did she just say 'take us to your leader'?" Ami stifled a giggle and playfully swatted at Xander's shoulder.

Boon continued speaking with the herald and Xander took the change to look around the village some more. The Jakul were becoming bolder and approaching the group closer, but Xander could tell that there was no threat from them. They seemed fascinated by everything about the away team. It wasn't often a diverse group of aliens wandered into their village Xander assumed. After a few minutes Kober hurried off to fetch one of the village elders, and Xander felt a tug on his uniform. He turned and looked into the eyes of a young boy, around six or seven. He had deep brown skin and piercing yellow eyes.

"Are you a starfarer?" the boy asked.

Xander thought about the question for a moment. "I suppose I am," he answered. "What do you know about starfarers?"

"My father used to tell us stories about them. They visited our village when he was a boy. My name is Jalen."

"Well hello Jalen, it's nice to meet you. I'm Xander."

"Were you born in the stars?"

"No, I was born on a planet, a lot like this one. Then one day a long time ago, my people built starships so we could fly through the stars and meet people like you."

"Oh, that's what my brother said. I thought maybe you were born in the stars. Do you think that the Jakul could be starfarers one day?"

Xander shrugged. "At this rate, you'll probably have a ship yourself," he muttered. At the boy's confused look he added, "Anything's possible," with a smile.

"Jalen, we have to go," a woman's voice called out. Xander looked up and saw her approaching. Her skin looked the same as the boy's, but her eyes were blue. She had a thin face with a kind smile, and a small goat-like animal following behind her.

"That's my mom, we came to the market today because she said I can have a togar of my own, if I promise to take care of him. Do you have a pet?"

"I do. But he's quite a bit bigger than your togar there."

"Will you be staying in the village long? Maybe you can come to our house and tell us stories about the stars?"

"Jalen, that's enough," his mother said. "I'm sure the starfarer is very busy. I'm sorry," she said to Xander. "He's very…excitable."

"It's no problem," Xander said. "We're going to be here for a little while, I'm sure we'll see each other again," he said to the boy with a smile. The pair smiled and went on their way while Xander turned back to the group. Kober was returning, and with him there was an older man with charcoal gray skin and a much more elaborate set of icons and symbols hanging from his neck. When he got closer, Xander recognized one as the empty case of an old style tricorder. When the older Jakul saw the away team, he looked astonished.

"I'm Captain Mizuno," Ami said, introducing herself. The elder started to raise his hand to his forehead like the herald had when he welcomed the group, but he stopped. He stuck his hand out toward Ami instead, and she shook it. He laughed.

"Incredible," he said, with a wide smile. "I am Elder Tureeth, and I am honored to meet you," he said, shaking Ami's hand up and down vigorously. "Are you from the…Pennsylvania?"

"We are from another ship, but we come from the same place as the crew of the Pennsylvania. A group of planets called…"

"The Federation, yes I remember! I was the village herald when Captain Baker and his crew visited us." He reached down at touched the tricorder case that hung from around his neck as though it were a badge of honor, which Xander supposed, it was. "Why have you returned?"

"Our people are explorers," Boon cut in. "We'd like the chance to learn more about you."

Tureeth's smile widened even further. "Wonderful, we would relish the chance to share experiences with you. I'll need to assemble the Elders right away, we'll need to make plans so that we can make the most of your time here with us." He turned. "Kober." The young herald stepped forward with an eager smile. "See to our friends, be sure they have whatever they need, I will return soon."

"Yes, Elder," Kober answered.

Tureeth left and the away team began talking among themselves, making plans as to what they would do first. Xander suddenly had a very strange feeling. He turned and looked back the way they had come, back toward the woods where the remaining security officers stood watch. It was that same vague feeling of foreboding that he had felt when they first beamed down, but now it seemed to be growing stronger. He took a few steps back toward the village entrance and that's when it hit him. The buzzing sensation in the back of his head that could only mean one thing. He closed his eyes and cursed himself, he didn't think it possible for things to become more complicated on this mission, but they just became infinitely so. Somewhere on Zeta Nu V, somewhere very close, there was another Immortal.

Xander quickly made his way out of the village, back up the road they had come in by. He anxiously scanned the tree line as he walked, looking for any movement at all. He saw nothing but the bored looking security officers posted, and from their body language he deduced that they hadn't seen anything unusual either. He made his way to the closest one, Lt. Gurf, a large Caitian with dark orange fur. "Report."

"Nothing to report, Sir. Everything's quiet out here."

"Have you noticed anything in the woods? Animal activity maybe?"

"No, Sir."

"Check with the others if they've seen anything unusual and report back to me."

"Aye, Sir."

Xander continued deeper into the woods, to the beam in site. He made sure that he was out of sight and earshot before reaching up and tapping his combadge three quick times. He had preprogramed that command to connect him directly to Discovery's computer and bypass the comm station on the bridge. A moment later he heard the computer's ready signal through his combadge. "Initiate emergency transporter protocol Harris-Beta-1." Another beep from the computer and a moment later the telltale whine of the transporter, as his sword and bracers materialized on the ground at his feet. He squatted down and strapped the bracers to his forearms under his sleeves and picked up his sword.

His centuries alive among other Immortals had taught him to hone his sense of others of his kind, to use it almost like radar. His closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation in the back of his head. The other Immortal was closer now than before, somewhere deeper into the woods. Whoever they were they were certainly aware of him by now as well. But who were they, why were they here? It couldn't be a coincidence, there was no reason for any other human to be on this planet. It had to be John Dallas, he had somehow followed Xander here, waiting to get him alone.

Suddenly, the sensation vanished. The Immortal was gone. Xander opened his eyes and looked around but there was still no indication of activity in the woods. His combadge chirped. Xander reached up and tapped it.

"Gurf here, Sir. Nothing to report from the others, but…"

"What?"

"I wouldn't mention it Sir, except that you asked us to report anything unusual. I can smell something, in the woods. At first I just assumed it was an animal of some kind, but…it doesn't smell right. It doesn't fit with anything else that I've smelled here."

"Could it be someone from Discovery's crew?"

"Negative, Sir. This is nothing I've smelled on Discovery either."

"All right, thanks Gurf. Keep your eyes open, and your…nostrils too, I guess."

"Aye, Sir."

There was only one way the feeling could have disappeared like that. Whoever the other Immortal was must have used a transporter to beam out of range of their shared connection. If it was Dallas and he was there to confront him, why would he leave? And what was Gurf smelling in the woods? Xander trusted the Caitain's nose and his own instincts to tell him that there was still some threat here, and he was going to find out what it was. Adjusting the grip on his sword, he took a defensive stance and started moving further into the woods.

The trees were tall with copper colored bark and softball-sized green seedpods hanging from them. The forest floor was mostly covered with patches of thick grass, so Xander was able to move silently through the trees. It became denser the further he walked, and darker as the thick canopy let in less and less sunlight. He listened for anything that might indicate that he wasn't alone, but all he could hear was his own breathing. Maybe there was nothing here, maybe he was overreacting. Could he have just imagined feeling the presence of another Immortal? He was under a lot of stress, he supposed that it was possible. But Gurf has smelled something. Something that wasn't human and wasn't local. Could he be imaging things too? And then the wind changed, and Xander smelled something too.

There wasn't time to think, just react. Xander lifted his sword behind him in a rear block, where it met the blade of a bat'leth that had been aimed at the back of his neck, where it would have easily taken his head. He quickly pivoted on his left foot and slammed his right foot into the midsection of his attacker, pushing him away and giving himself some distance. The Klingon staggered back but stayed on his feet. Xander had maybe a half of a second to assess his opponent before he attacked again. He was medium build with a ruddy complexion and jagged teeth. He wore the standard armor chest plate that most Klingon soldiers wore, but with no baldric or rank insignia on his sleeves. His pants and boots weren't part of the standard KDF uniform either, they were brown.

He raised his bat'leth and attacked again, Xander blocked each strike with his own sword as the Klingon drove him back further and further. He was waiting for an opening, a mistake that he could exploit, an over extended swing or an off balance stance. But the further back he was driven he began to realize that he might be dead before that opening ever came, so he decided that he needed to create one. Waiting for a brief pause between strikes, Xander swung his sword up and slicked off a tree limb above his head, which came crashing down on top of the Klingon. Xander made quick use of the distraction and stabbed down at an opening between the branches, but the Klingon rolled slightly so that all Xander's sword met was the metal of his armor. He kept on him as the Klingon staggered to his feet, both of them swinging at each other, neither able to find an opening. No words were spoken by either of them. There was nothing to be said. Finally the Klingon decided to go with brute force. He swung his bat'leth down and when it met Xander's sword he just pushed as hard as he could, gritting his teeth as a low growl escaped his lips. It took every ounce of Xander's strength to keep the honor blade from cleaving him in half. There was no more technique, no more strategy, just survival instinct.

"Xander!" a voice called out through the woods. He didn't hear it at first, but the Klingon did. He flinched, his attention drifted just for a second. That was all that Xander needed. He threw out his leg and kicked the Klingon in the side of the knee, knocking him off balance at the same time that he brought his sword down, cutting a gash across the Klingon's forearm as he went down. He turned his head just for a second, to see if he could see who had called out to him, and when he turned back the Klingon was on his feet and running into the woods. He drew one of his throwing knives and hurled it at his fleeing opponent, but it missed its mark and struck a tree. A second later the Klingon disappeared completely into the dense woods.

"Xander!"

This time he recognized the voice as Ami's. He reached up and tapped his combadge. "Harris to Mizuno, stand by," he whispered. He carefully made his way back to the clearing where they had beamed in, keeping his eyes and ears open for an ambush along the way. He made it to the clearing unaccosted and spotted Ami. When she spotted his sword, her eyes widened.

"What happened?"

"There was an Immortal here, I felt it. I tracked them to the woods here but the feeling disappeared, whoever it was must have beamed away. But we've got bigger problems."

"There you are." Xander and Ami both turned to see Boon walking toward them from the village path. Xander rolled his eyes. When she got closer and saw Xander's sword she looked annoyed. "What's going on here? Captain, we need you in the village, we don't have time for…whatever this is."

"Just, hang on a second Rachel. What bigger problems?" she asked, turning back to Xander.

"I was just attacked by a Klingon in the woods."

"A Klingon?!" Ami and Rachel both echoed in shock.

"And there's more of them out there, mercenaries, my guess would be a scouting party."

"How can you know that?" Boon asked derisively.

"He took off when he heard Ami calling me. Klingons don't retreat, if he had been alone he would have kept fighting until one of us was dead. They do regroup though, especially if their mission is covert."

"This is ridiculous, Captain…" Boon started, she was cut short when Ami raised a hand.

She tapped her combadge. "Mizuno to Discovery."

"Tyk here, what can I do for you Captain?"

"We believe there may be another ship in orbit Commander, possibly Klingon, possibly cloaked. I need you to find that ship and disable it."

"Understood Captain, we're on it."

"Mizuno out. How do you want to play this?" she asked Xander.

"We need more information," Xander said. "And I have an idea how we can get it." Xander laid out his plan. Ami nodded as he spoke while Boon looked more and more horrified as her dream assignment started crumbling down around her.

"Okay, let's do it," Ami said after Xander finished speaking. "Rachel, you stay close to me, okay?" Boon just nodded, too much in shock to respond verbally.

Xander walked further into the clearing while Ami and Boon went into the woods. If this was a scouting party, as Xander suspected, and they were here because of their mission, which was the only thing that mad sense, then they had to be monitoring their communications. Xander counted to thirty in his head and then he reached up and tapped his combadge. "Harris to Mizuno."

"Mizuno here, go ahead."

"Captain, I'd like to stay behind and do a little recon here. Whoever that Klingon was who attacked me, he has to still be in these woods."

"Suit yourself, Xander. We don't have the manpower right now to look for phantom Klingons, this is an import mission. I'll expect you back within the hour."

"Understood. Harris out."

Xander stayed in the open of the clearing, in full view of anyone in the area. He held his sword out in front of him and made a show of looking around warily. He thought he made pretty good bait for a Klingon, and he didn't have to wait long to find out how right he was. One by one, they started coming out of the woods, six in all. They were mostly dressed similarly to the first Klingon Xander met, chest armor but no baldrics or rank insignia, except for one of them. He had black curly hair that hung down to his shoulders, and a scar on his cheek that matched the scowl he wore well. He carried a mek'leth and wore a disruptor on his hip, as did most of the others, and on his shoulder Xander saw the KDF rank insignia of Sergeant. This was clearly the leader here, as he walked ahead of the others as they made a beeline for Xander. He stopped a few feet away, and for a moment they all just looked at each other.

"Seeking out a Klingon warrior, alone, in a secluded area, with nothing to defend yourself but a sword," the Sergeant said. "I thought you Starfleeters were supposed to be smarter than that." A few of the other Klingons chuckled at that.

Xander saw an opportunity to put them off guard. "Attacking a man from behind, running away from battle when he is wounded, is this what passes for a Klingon warrior these days?" he asked, making eye contact with the warrior that he had fought earlier in the woods.

"PetaQ!" he hissed. "Watch your tongue human, before I cut it out!"

The Sergeant held up his hand and the warrior fell silent. "You are brave, human. I'll give you that."

"What are you doing here, Sergeant?" Xander asked. The Klingon looked surprised to be addressed by his rank, or former rank as the case may be. "Who are you working for? Because it certainly isn't the KDF."

"You are not exactly in the position to be asking us questions."

Xander smiled. "You sure about that?"

"Gentlemen!" a voice called out of the woods. The Klingons all turned, surprised. When they saw a slight woman with blue hair in a blue sailor suit, they were even more surprised. "Freeze!" she called out.

"I'd listen to her if I were you," Xander said. The Sergeant tossed him a glare, Xander could see puzzlement in his eyes. He looked away and motioned toward his men to apprehend her. Sailor Mercury stepped back and raised her arms. "I warned you," Xander muttered before diving to the ground.

"MERCURY AQUA BLIZZARD!"

Xander covered his head as a torrent of artic air blew through the clearing. He could feel the ice forming on his back as the freezing gust whipped over him. No sound could be heard over the screaming of the wind. After a few seconds, it stopped. He waited, to be sure. He heard footsteps in the grass and when he looked up he saw Sailor Mercury standing above him, offering him a hand up. He took it and rose to his feet. "Freeze? Really? That's the best you could come up with? What about 'Ice to see you' or 'Why don't you guys chill out'."

"Bite me," the sailor scout replied playfully.

Xander raised a mock-scolding finger. "Don't tempt me," he teased.

He looked around at the clearing which was now covered with snow, and standing in the middle of it were a half dozen frozen Klingons. They were each incased in ice from about mid-chest down, unable to move. At this point, Boon wandered out of the woods looking shell-shocked. Xander sauntered over to the Sergeant. The Klingon struggled against his icy bonds with a baffled grimace on his face, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. "So, what were you saying again about position?" Xander asked.

"Release us!" he demanded.

"Now if I do that you'll leave, and we were just getting to know each other," Xander said. He considered his options. The Klingons weren't likely to tell them anything about their mission, no matter what they did to them. But there was one piece of information that he could get, something that may not seem important to them but could help Xander tremendously to know what he was up against here. "I'll make a deal with you Sergeant, and this is the best deal that you are likely to get anywhere. I have one question for you, just one. If you answer that question for me, then I will let you and your men go, unharmed."

"And if…I refuse…will you…kill us?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. If you don't answer my question, we will stun you and your men unconscious. We'll take you to our ship, keep you sedated so that you can't harm yourselves, and we'll take you back to the Empire. Then we will deliver you, one by one, to the head of your respective houses, trussed up like targs, defeated and dishonored."

"No…you can't…do that."

"I can, and I will, if you force me," Xander said. "The only thing that I want to know, is the name of the human who was with you earlier."

"What?"

"There was a human with you when I walked into the woods, whoever it was beamed away before your man there attacked me. Give me his name and I will let you go, you have my word as a warrior." The Sergeant gritted his teeth and growled, he clearly found all of his options in the present situation to be unpleasant. "Do you place your loyalty to a human above the honor of your men?" Xander taunted.

The Sergeant glared and snarled at Xander. "Banner," he spat.

Xander frowned. "Russell Banner?" he asked. The Sergeant nodded. Xander seemed to think for a moment before nodding, then he drew his phaser and took a step back. He tapped the setting control with his thumb, and then raised the weapon and aimed it at the Sergeant. Mercury and Boon looked on stunned but before they could say anything, he fired.

The beam, on its lowest setting, struck the ice and promptly melted it, leaving the Klingon unharmed. He fell to his knees, his body shivering. Xander did the same for the other five Klingons before walking back to where the Sergeant was rising to his feet. The two looked at each other for a moment before the Sergeant touched the communicator on his arm and barked a few words in Klingon. A moment later the six of them disappeared in the golden shimmer of a transporter beam.

"Do you know this Banner?" Sailor Mercury asked.

Xander nodded as he replaced his phaser to the holster on his belt and then looked up at Mercury and Boon. "We've got a problem."

88888888888888

E.C.S. Fortunate (passenger ship)

August 12, 2171 (Federation Day 10)

Somewhere between Alpha Centauri and Earth

Xander sat alone in the lounge of the small transport ship. The trip between Alpha Centauri and Earth was only a few hours, not long enough to be assigned a cabin, so he was forced to share a space with his fellow passengers, most of which appeared to be on their way to some Federation Day celebration or another. They were raucous and irritating, but Xander tuned them out. He was headed home, or what passed for it these days. Returning from another wild goose chase for John Dallas, another lead that went nowhere. But leads on the whereabouts of the Immortal assassin that killed his friends, even bad ones, had become more and more infrequent in the last century or so, so Xander felt obligated to track down every one. But inevitably, when they led nowhere, he was left even more frustrated than before. Almost two centuries had passed since the only people that he had ever really loved had been so cruelly ripped away from him, brutally murdered in front of him, and still that pain remained. There were some days when he could forget about it, but then there were days like today, when the wounds felt as fresh as ever.

In the early days of his immortality, Xander pursued Dallas doggedly. He researched, learned everything there was to know about the man. He tracked down people that he knew, other assassins from the Order of Taraka, friends, acquaintances, but Dallas always managed to stay one step ahead of him. Along the way he learned more about what it meant to be an Immortal, about the game. He trained hard, for the day that he would finally meet Dallas again face to face, but that day never came. Decades passed, Earth erupted into a third world war, and everything just kind of fell apart after that. Governments, the Watcher's Council, the Order of Taraka, everything. Xander lost Dallas' trail after that. And then after First Contact, humankind had to deal with the fact that they were no longer alone in the universe. Xander had to deal with the fact that Dallas now had hundreds of inhabited planets to run to. After that Xander just sort of drifted from one place to another, working odd jobs, just sort of existing, not really living. Sometimes he ran into demons or other Immortals and had to kill them, violence it seemed was the only constant thread that ran through his life.

Today was the tenth anniversary of the founding of the United Federation of Planets. For most people the Federation meant safety, security, an end to war and the beginning of a new era of peace and exploration. For Xander peace just meant the space between wars, the anticipation of destruction and atrocity. War, at least, was a distraction. He didn't feel much like celebrating.

To the side of the lounge there were a series of bench seats facing each other, like booths in an old diner. Xander was seated in the last one in the corner, his back to the wall. He had his feet up on the seat across from him and he was cleaning his fingernails with a throwing knife. His entire posture said stay away, and his fellow passengers abided. He was lost in thought when he felt a very familiar sensation in the back of his head, the feeling that meant there was another Immortal nearby. He picked his head up and scanned the room. It was a feeling that he had come to associate with violence, because every time he felt it and thought that maybe he had finally found Dallas, he took out his frustration on whatever Immortal he did find. But he didn't feel like fighting anymore. He didn't feel like doing much of anything. He caught the eye of a man standing across the room, wearing a trench coat with a duffel bag over his shoulder. Xander reached down and grabbed his own bag, which contained his sword, from the floor and put it on the seat next to him as the man approached. He had dark hair with long sideburns and a soul patch beard. He had a deceptively easygoing smile on his face, the kind a man wore so he could get close enough to slide a knife between your ribs, Xander thought. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

"This seat taken?" he asked Xander when he got closer, indicating the bench seat across from him. His accent sounded American, Xander thought. Midwest maybe. Xander slowly shook his head but didn't move his feet. The man sat down and put one of his own feet up on Xander's seat.

"Where and when do you want to do this?" Xander asked, getting straight to the point. He had had enough of these conversations with other Immortals, idle chit-chat before they tried to kill each other. Both of them knew that neither was likely to attack here and now, fighting on a starship was an incredibly stupid idea. Nowhere secluded enough where they wouldn't be interrupted, nowhere to escape to if they were spotted or things went wrong. Not to mention what a quickening could do to a starship's systems.

"Nowhere and never, preferably," the man answered. "I just wanted to come over here and let you know that I'm not looking for trouble, I'm just trying to get home."

Xander raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been expecting that. He considered the man for a moment before he decided that he believed him to be sincere. "Fine with me," he replied.

The man seemed to relax. "I'm glad to hear you say that, after the week I've had the last thing I'm looking for is a fight. Name's Banner, by the way. Russell Banner," he said, holding out his hand.

Xander shook it reluctantly. He wasn't looking for a fight either, but he also wasn't looking to make any friends. "Xander Harris."

"Nice to meet you, Xander. So where are you headed?"

"Home."

"That's what I thought. You look the way I feel, tired and glad to still have your head. I had a feeling that you and I might have more in common than our mutual immunity to death."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you're no slave to the game like some of the other Immortals I've met. Honestly, 'The Game', what a ridiculous thing to call a bunch of Immortals trying to kill each other. It's a lot of nonsense if you ask me. Immortality, that's prize enough for me. This universe is dangerous enough without looking for trouble. I'm not saying I can't defend myself, I'd be a fool to not learn how to use a sword, especially in my line of work. But why go spoiling for a fight? The way I figure it, I might as well take advantage of what I have, right? Make some money, make a comfortable life for myself. I mean, what's the point of living forever if you can't enjoy it, right?"

Xander stared at Banner. His attitude was so far from Xander's own experiences as an Immortal that he didn't know how to react to him. Immortality wasn't a prize to Xander, it was a curse. It was purgatory. The point of living forever wasn't to enjoy himself, it was to suffer. It was penance, for letting his friends die, for not even being able to avenge them. His initial response was anger, but it was so buried in anguish that he didn't even have the energy to focus it. He didn't know if he was angry at Banner, or himself. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Xander realized that Banner was looking very uncomfortable under his stare, so he spoke. "And what is your line of work?" he asked.

Banner blinked. Whatever his assumptions about Xander, he was starting to realize that he was wrong. "Hired muscle, I guess you could say," he answered. "For anyone who can afford it."

"You're a mercenary," Xander simplified. He never considered himself morally superior to anyone, he'd done his fair share of killing. But something about saying the word out loud put a bad taste in his mouth. Fighting and killing for a cause that you believed in, or even out of anger or revenge, that made sense to him. But doing it for money, he couldn't ever imagine making that choice.

"And what do you do?" Banner asked.

'I suffer,' Xander wanted to answer. 'I chase, I obsess, I…joust windmills. I hone my mind and body for the sole purpose of seeing John Dallas driven before me, on his knees begging for his life, so I can cut off his head and dance in his blood.' "Mostly I build things."

Banner nodded. "That must be lucrative, in this day and age. The Federation expanding, new colonies popping up all the time. I imagine there's no shortage of things that need to be built."

"What about you?" Xander asked. "In your line of work, I would imagine that peace is…bad for business."

"You know the old saying, 'wars may end but war never does'. There's always somebody somewhere who is willing to pay for…good help."

Xander thought about his own war, against Dallas. It didn't seem like it would ever end, at least not the way Xander wanted it to. He looked across the room at the Federation Day revelers and thought about how different they were from Banner and himself. Most of them were old enough to remember the Earth/Romulan war, they knew how horrible it was and how many people died, but they had hope. They saw the Federation as more than just a brief respite from that misery, they believed that the galaxy could be a better place, they believed in what the Federation stood for. Xander had to admit to himself that he had more in common with Banner then he did with them, and that thought sickened him. It was time to stop blaming his immortality for the life that he led, he made his own choices. If he had to fight, then it was time to fight for something, instead of wallowing in self-pity and lamenting on lost opportunities for revenge. Otherwise, how long would it be before he became just like this man, trading death for money and comfort and not thinking twice about it. He couldn't dishonor his friends' memory by becoming like that. He wouldn't.

Xander stood and picked up his bag, he suddenly felt the need to be anywhere but near Banner at that moment. "Excuse me," he said, stepping around the other man.

"Where are you going?"

"I need a drink," Xander answered, and found that the statement was true.

"I'll join you."

"I'd really rather you didn't."

"Wait a second." Banner put his hand on Xander's shoulder. Xander pulled away violently, turning to glare at the other man. Banner looked shocked and confused.

"You're trying to recruit me, aren't you?" Xander said. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You weren't just trying to avoid a fight."

Banner smiled like a used car salesman. "I'll admit, the thought crossed my mind. I'm always looking for somebody who can handle themselves in a fight, and if it's one of our kind then more the better. There's a lot of money to be made out there for guys like us. Hear me out."

The words 'our kind' made the bile rise in Xander's throat, the thought that he was cut from the same cloth as men like Banner and John Dallas. It took all of his self-control not to pull his sword from his bag and take his head right there and then.

"Let me explain something to you Banner, there is no 'guys like us'. I'm nothing like you. Every Immortal reaches a point after they find out what they are where they have to decide what to do with their lives, how to pass the centuries. I've always viewed my life as punishment, for my failures. You have apparently decided to use yours to make profit from other people's pain and suffering, from death. Well that's not me, and it never will be."

"Violence is part of who we are, we can't avoid that," Banner shot back. "The sole purpose of our existence is to kill each other," he laughed humorlessly. "What are we supposed to do with that? If you want to look at it as punishment, fine. But don't you dare judge me for trying to make something better for myself."

"How can you possibly call what you're doing making anything better for anyone?! If you want to sell your soul to the devil, go right ahead. But don't pretend like you don't have a choice about it, we all have a choice."

"And you think you're better than me? When I walked in here you were ready to fight and kill me, just because of what I am. How many heads have you taken, for the game?" Banner asked, virtually spitting out the word 'game'. "How does that make you morally superior to me? I fight combatants in a warzone, I'm no different than any other soldier."

"A soldier risks his life and fights for something that he believes in. You risk nothing and kill for money, there's a big difference. I don't claim to be better than anybody," Xander said. He paused for a moment, in thought. "The difference is that I *want* to be better. And maybe that's enough. It's a start anyway."

"You're being naïve."

Xander disagreed. Idealistic maybe, but not naïve. "If being like you is the alternative then I'll take naïve any day," he said.

"Give it a few more centuries, if you last that long."

"If that day ever comes I'll cut my own head off. But until then, why don't you do us both a favor and stay the hell away from me." Xander pushed passed Banner and headed toward the other side of the lounge, where the bar was. Banner wisely didn't follow.

Maybe that wasn't a good idea, Xander thought to himself. The last thing he wanted was to make another enemy, or to draw attention to himself with such a public confrontation like that. Thankfully the noise level in the lounge was such that he was sure no one had overheard them, and anyone looking at them would hopefully just think they were having a disagreement. At the moment, he didn't much care. He felt like he had spent the last 170 years hiding. Hiding from the world, from reality. And he just couldn't take it anymore. It felt odd, he had certainly had thoughts like this before, that he was wasting his life or dishonoring his friends' memories. But something was different now. He didn't know how or why, but Xander knew that this time he had reached a real turning point. It was time to do something worthwhile with his rather long life, before he did become like Banner. Before life became so cheap to him that he just didn't care anymore. The question now was what could he do? When he was young and he learned about the truth of the world, about vampires and demons and such, he knew that fighting against that darkness was the most important thing that he could do with his life. What could he possibly find to do that could even come close to that kind of significance?

Xander sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. He was still mostly lost in thought when a man slid between him and the next barstool and leaned over to get the bartender's attention. Xander looked up and saw that the man was wearing a Starfleet uniform. Could it be that simple, Xander thought? Could the answer really be staring him right in the face? Xander hadn't thought much of the Federation when it first started, it seemed like an alliance forged out of desperation. Earth wasn't prepared to face the harshness of the galaxy alone, and so they sought out allies. The idea of what the Federation could become, many planets bound together not just for mutual defense but to create a new interstellar society, a utopia where many different aliens could live together in peace and harmony, it all sounded like a pipedream. But here they were, ten years later, and the Federation was still going strong. It seemed like enough people believed in the dream to make it a reality. And not just believed in it, fought to defend it, to protect it from forces inside and out. But Starfleet's mandate wasn't just defense, their primary function was still exploration. They recognized that there was more to creating a thriving and peaceful society then just protecting its borders. They had to grow, and learn. It seemed like a pretty noble pursuit to him. It could even be a life worth living.

The Starfleeter looked down, noticing for the first time that Xander seemed to be staring at him. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.

"I just…" Xander started, still lost in thought. "I just wanted to thank you for your service," he said, putting his hand out. The man shook it with a nod. "Let me buy you a drink," Xander said, starting a conversation that would change his life foerever.

8888888888888888888

"We ran tachyon scans of this whole system, we didn't find any indication of a cloaked ship," Tyk said. Ami, Xander and Boon had beamed up after their encounter in the clearing and were now gathered in the conference room off the bridge along with Commander Tyk. "They could be monitoring our position and staying on the opposite side of the planet to evade our scans, or depending on how large the ship is they simply could have landed it. Lt. Gibson is running scans of the surface right now."

"Klingon mercenaries?!" Boon said, seemingly still in shock over the whole idea. "It sounds like an oxymoron."

"They're not as uncommon as you might think," Xander said. "After the Klingon civil war thirteen years ago, a lot of warriors found themselves on the wrong side of the Chancellor. In some cases, if their house had no influence, Gowron seized their lands and holdings, leaving thousands of Klingon warriors dishonored and penniless. Many of them committed hegh'bat, ritual suicide, but the majority of them were simply forced to make lives for themselves outside of the empire, accepting discommendation and exile in order to protect the honor of their house or family. That's why my threat on the planet worked, none of those warriors want to dishonor whatever family they may still have in the empire."

"But as mercenaries? It seems so…dishonorable," Boon said.

"As much as Klingons value their honor, they don't necessarily always agree as to what that means. They may be forced to obey the Chancellor but that doesn't mean that they always agree with him. Most exiled would still consider themselves to have honor, even as a warrior for hire. That's why it was vital that I kept my word to them and let them go. It showed them that we have honor too. If this escalates the way I think it will, that could be important."

"But what did it get us?" Boon asked, agitated. "A name? How does that bring us any closer to learning what they are doing here?"

"More information than you might know, Doctor," Xander answered. "As to what they're doing here, I think that's fairly obvious."

"So who is this Banner?" Ami asked. "It seems that you know him."

"He's an Immortal, and a dangerous one at that. A mercenary, without a code of honor. He doesn't care about who he hurts, as long as he gets paid. My guess is that he is either in command of this group, or he brokered the deal that brought them here."

"I'm sorry, did you say 'immortal'?" Boon asked.

Xander and Ami exchanged a look. "I think it's time to lay all of our cards on the table, Dr. Boon," Xander said. "We both know the truth about Earth, the truth that most humans forgot a long time ago. Vampires, demons, magic, it's all real. You know this because you are one quarter demon, I know it because of where I grew up."

Boon looked aghast, whipping her head around to look at Ami. "How did…why would you…"

"Please don't be upset with the Captain, she told me because I needed to know," Xander said. "And now because I know the truth about you, I'm going to extend you the same courtesy. I am not El-Aurian, I'm human. I was born on Earth, 400 years ago, in a place called Sunnydale, California. You may have heard of it, it was home to a rather active hellmouth during the late 20th Century. I was there, fighting side by side with the slayer, trying to keep the world from being sucked into hell. We had quite a group back then. They were my friends, my real family. And then one day a man by the name of John Dallas killed them all. He killed me too, but I didn't die. I learned that day that I'm an Immortal, a member of a race of humans that have been spending the last few thousand years on Earth trying to kill each other. The details after that are immaterial, suffice it to say that Banner is dangerous, and if we don't handle this situation delicately it could cause an intergalactic incident. Not to mention what could happen to the Jakul."

"So this is your fault then," Boon said. "You're the reason this Banner person is here, ruining the scientific discovery of a lifetime, so you can play with your swords in the woods!"

Xander shook his head. "You still don't get it, do you? You simply refuse to look at what's happening here outside of your own narrow view. Do you honestly think that Starfleet Intelligence kept denying your request for this mission just because they don't like you? What the Jakul can do, what that represents, life after death. It's a commodity. What if that could be developed, adapted to other races, modified to render them virtually immortal. And if one superpower in this quadrant were to gain that power independently, it would destabilize the entire region. Our enemies, even our allies, are not going to let that happen. But the Federation isn't interested in exploiting the Jakul to that end, so we were content to leave them alone and as long as we did so, the other powers in this quadrant were content to do the same. But if any of them knew for a moment that we were here right now, studying the Jakul, it could start a war. Or worse, a genetic arms race. Can you imagine what that would mean for the Jakul, every superpower in the galaxy warring over them? They'd be kidnapped, experimented on and dissected, until finally somebody decides that if they can't have them no one will and just nukes the whole planet. And that still wouldn't be the end of it, the resulting wars would probably last for centuries."

Boon looked like she was going to be sick. Her usual pale complexion seemed to be getting even paler. Her mouth was as dry as a Cardassian summer as it kept opening and closing, trying to find something to say, some way to refute what she was hearing.

"That's what Starfleet Intelligence does, Dr. Boon. That's what I do on this ship. We prevent scenarios like that every day so that people like you can sleep at night. But I've failed now, because I ignored my better judgment and I let it get personal. So now here we all sit, on the precipice of galactic destruction. I hope you like the view, Doctor."

"Okay, let's all take a deep breath here," Ami said. "Blaming ourselves or each other is not going to get anything accomplished. There are risks with any mission, and we have to be prepared to deal with that. What's done is done, so let's concentrate on what we can do to fix it. We're Starfleet, this is our job."

Xander looked at Ami and nodded. "You're right, Ami. I'm sorry."

"Why mercenaries?" Boon asked in a timid voice, barely above a whisper. All eyes turned to her. "I mean, whoever this power is, if what they're after is scientific information, why not just send their own contact team and visit a different village."

"They can't send their own people," Xander said. "They have to be able to have plausible deniability if they get caught. They can't send scientists because there are no hired gun scientists as far as I know, so they send mercs to shadow us, report back what we're doing. They were probably planning to eventually ambush us on the planet and steal our data, kill us to cover their tracks."

"So who are we talking about here?" Ami asked. "And how did they find out about this mission?"

"They probably intercepted a transmission of some kind, and since I made sure that all transmissions regarding this mission were encrypted at level five, we're talking about a pretty sophisticated intelligence network to find it and decode it," Xander said. "There's only one power that I can think of that can do that and is also close enough to this area of space to take an interest in the Jakul."

Ami paled as she realized who Xander was talking about. "The Romulans."

Xander nodded. "Got it in one."

"What happens if we bug out?" Tyk asked. "Don't give them any data to steal."

"Depends what their orders are, but I doubt they want to go back to their employers empty handed," Xander said. "They might kidnap some of the Jakul, they might raze the whole village just out of spite, who knows. I'd rather not leave them here to find out."

"Agreed," Ami said.

"What's to stop them from doing that now?" Boon asked. "I mean, they've been exposed, they can't take us by surprise anymore. They could just pick another village on the planet and do…god knows what."

"We've got a full complement of class-2 sensor probes onboard," Tyk said. "We can program them to scan for Klingon lifesigns or signs of high technology and deploy them in synchronous orbit above the other villages."

"Do it," Ami said. "And find me that ship, Commander."

"Aye, Captain."

"In the meantime, I recommend that we continue with the mission," Xander said. Ami and Boon both looked at him, surprised. "We should triple security, and keep them out of site. We're still the best bet for these mercs to complete their mission and get paid, if we scrap it all together they might get desperate. This is the best way to draw them out so we can neutralize them."

"What do we tell the Jakul?" Boon asked.

"Nothing," Xander said. "There's nothing that they can do, there's no reason to panic them."

"Okay," Ami said. "Rachel and I will beam back down and join the rest of the away team. Xander, why don't you get the extra security together and put them in place and report back when everything is in position. Commander Tyk, you have your orders, let me know if you find anything."

"Aye, Captain."

"Aye, Captain."

Ami nodded. "Dismissed."

888888888888888888888888

That night when Xander got back to his quarters, he was exhausted. He took off his uniform jacket and tossed it onto his couch as he made his way to his favorite arm chair and sat down. Scooby came trotting out of the bedroom when he heard the door open, he laid down next to the chair and nuzzled his master's hand affectionately. Xander absently scratched his head between his horns. After the encounter on the planet he had spent some time with Lt. Gibson, devising the best strategy for keeping the away team as well as the Jakul village safe, while keeping the bulk of the security invisible. The final plan involved perimeter sensors, transporter inhibitors, security officers in duck-blind suits patrolling the woods, and a small visible security force in the village itself. Xander spent most of the rest of the day on the surface coordinating the security efforts. There was still no sign of the Klingon ship either in orbit or on the surface. Was it possible that they bugged out? Thinking about all the ways that this mission could still go wrong gave Xander a headache, so he tried to stop thinking about it. He considered meditating, but he didn't think that he would be able to get calm enough. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, and slowly dozed off.

He was startled awake by the door chime. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but he was sure that it wasn't very long. Scooby was standing now, staring at the door, his hackles raised. He wasn't baring his teeth but there was a low growl in the back of his throat, almost too low to be audible. Xander knew that this reaction simply meant that Scooby wasn't familiar with whoever was behind the door, but it still gave his sleepy brain an ominous feeling. He imagined a Klingon on the other side, his bat'leth raised and ready to strike. Xander shook the feeling off as he stood and headed for the door, giving Scooby a reassuring pat as he walked by him. "It's okay, boy," he said. "I'm sure it's nothing too horrible."

Xander tapped the control and the door slid open to reveal a nervous looking Rachel Boon. "Spoke too soon," Xander muttered to himself. A small part of him found himself wishing that it had been a Klingon. "Dr. Boon," he greeted her civilly. "Something I can help you with?"

"I'd like to…that is, I wanted to…talk to you, may I come in?"

Xander sighed and nodded wordlessly, motioning for her to come in. He turned and walked back toward his chair, Boon followed, the door closing behind her. "I just wanted to say…what the hell is that?!"

Xander turned and saw that she was practically on the other side of the room, looking terrified and pointing to where he was standing. It took him a moment to realize that she was looking at Scooby. "Oh, that's Scooby. It's okay, he won't hurt you." He reached down and patted the razor cat's flank. "She's good Scoob, go lay down." Scooby licked his chops before turning and walking to the corner of the living room where he laid down, keeping an eye on Boon.

"That…thing is your pet?!"

Xander was too tired to be offended, he practically collapsed back into his chair. "More like a friend," he said.

"It's a wild animal!"

"Actually razor cats have been domesticated for a few thousand years. I don't mean to be rude Doctor, but it's been a very long day, so can we get to the reason why you're here."

"Right, well…I just wanted to know how the new security measures were going."

Xander blinked. "Fine," he answered evenly.

"Good. That's…good."

Ordinarily Xander might have even enjoyed her obvious discomfort, but it was becoming tiresome. "I heard that things went well in the village today," he said, trying to keep the conversation going in the hopes that she would work her way toward the reason for her visit. "You're making progress."

"We are," Boon agreed. "There's a lot to go over during the briefing tomorrow."

Xander nodded. "I have to go over the new security procedures with everyone as well."

"Still no sign of these Klingons then?"

Xander shook his head. "I'm afraid not." An awkward silence followed. "Would you like to sit, Doctor?"

Boon took a seat on Xander's couch, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "There is something else that I wanted to ask you. In the briefing room today, you said that you let this mission get personal. What did you mean by that?"

Xander sighed, running his hand through his hair. He debated with himself how much he really wanted to tell Boon about what was going on. It was possible that she could still help him, and being honest with her did seem like the simplest way to handle things. "How much do you know about Immortals?"

"Not much. I have heard of them…of you before, but you are the first one that I've met. That I know of."

"I'm sure it all seems very distasteful to you, a lot of indiscriminate killing." To her credit, Boon didn't say anything. She just listened. "The truth is that I find it rather distasteful myself. I'm not the kind of person who goes looking for a fight, it just seems like…it always comes looking for me. There is a logic to it all, I wish I could explain it better than that. It's just an instinct that we have, like there is a certain order to the way we do things."

"Haven't you ever wondered why?" she asked. "Why you have to kill each other? What it all means."

"All the time. I think every Immortal does." He paused. "I'm getting off track. This whole thing started for me that day that John Dallas killed my friends, and I died my first death. For a long time I thought that I had put that all behind me, and then about a month ago Dallas showed up again. He lured me out and tried to kill me." Xander stood and walked to where Soul Vessel hung on the wall. He took it down and turned back to Boon. "He's after this. I don't understand how, but this sword is a device that is storing the energy from a thousand quickenings. A thousand dead Immortals, killed at Dallas' hand. He thinks that the power will make him a god. I think he's crazy. But the fact remains that I have become the…guardian of sorts to these quickenings. I don't know if they're aware, or if they're suffering, but I have to find a way to release them safely."

"The Realm of Souls," Boon said in realization.

Xander nodded. "When I learned about the Jakul and what they could do…I figured it was a longshot, but I had to try. So I talked to Admiral Colgate and got this mission approved." He paused. "It was a mistake. I let my personal feelings cloud my judgment, and now I've put who knows how many lives at risk. I'm sorry that I took it out on you in the briefing room, that wasn't fair. This whole mess is my fault."

"No, you were right. I came here tonight because I wanted to say…I'm sorry. I misjudged you and I treated you horribly when I first came aboard. You were right, I was so blinded by the scientific discoveries that I could make with the Jakul that I never let myself think about what the consequences could be for them."

Xander just nodded. He knew how difficult that must have been for someone like Boon, to admit that she was wrong and to apologize. He didn't want to push the issue so he changed the subject. "So what about you, what's your story?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why is this so personal for you? I mean, why are you so obsessed with finding proof of life after death?"

"I don't know that I would say obsessed…" Boon defended. Xander just looked at her. "Well…maybe." She seemed reluctant to talk. Xander just sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. He wanted to show that he was listening, but not pressuring her to talk about anything that she didn't feel comfortable with.

"I don't know how much the Captain told you about how I grew up, but I was raised by my mother in a Draz colony in Australia. The Draz are a proud people. And I was taught from when I was very young to be proud of what I was, but I was also taught that it had to be kept secret. That there were still people who wouldn't understand. For a young girl who was curious about the universe, it was hard. I didn't see my dad much. We would talk over subspace maybe once a month, his career kept him pretty busy. At the time I remember wishing that I was out there with him. I felt torn between two vastly different worlds. One was filled with magic and demons, a secret world. And the other was the modern world, filled with technological wonders and strange alien species. I didn't know where I belonged. My mother died when I was fifteen, and I left the Draz to live with my father. Part of me was excited about that, but I also felt so…guilty, like somehow my longing for a different life had caused her death. I felt like…she was ashamed of me. It took a long time to get over those feelings, but in the end I was still left with the desire to make my mother proud of me. I guess I've always felt like my unique upbringing gave me an opportunity to see things differently than my colleagues, and that by using that distinct perspective I was honoring my mother. And so what better way to bring my two worlds together then by scientifically proving the existence of things like magic, or the soul. Maybe it's naïve, but I feel like someday the truth about things like magic and demons will become common knowledge, and if my work can lead to that then…well, it will all have been worth it."

"I wouldn't call it naïve," Xander said. "Ambitious maybe. I don't know if humankind will ever be ready to learn the truth, but I would certainly welcome that day if it ever came. I don't know if this will mean anything coming from me, but I think your mother would be very proud of you."

Boon lightly dabbed at her eye and cleared her throat, trying to hide the fact that she was starting to tear up. Talking about her mother had clearly brought up a lot of feelings. "Thank you," she said simply.

"Well, no that that's all out if the way," Xander said, trying to change the subject. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to clean up this mess."

"When you put it that way you almost make it sound easy," Boon said with a smile. She looked down at Soul Vessel as it sat leaning against Xander's leg. "In the meantime, I may be able to help you find some answers regarding that sword. My mixed heritage makes me a pretty powerful empath and touch telepath, I can try to getting a reading from it."

"I would appreciate that, thank you," Xander said. "I would like to do it in a more controlled environment though. Say, tomorrow after the briefing in the Alien Technologies Lab? I'd like to run some scans during the reading."

"That will be fine," Boon said. "Maybe I can give you some of the answers that you're looking for."

Xander picked up Soul Vessel and turned the sword over in his hand, staring at it intently as if the answers would suddenly appear on the blade itself. "I hope so."


	3. Chapter 3

**Realm of Souls**

By Paradox761

Paradox761

(BtVS/Sailor Moon/Star Trek/Highlander, Xander/Ami)

Summary: In the wake of the events on Hardcross Station, Xander finds himself pursuing John Dallas as well as the secrets of the mysterious sword, Soul Vessel, all while trying to adjust to his new life aboard the Discovery. A mission to a primitive planet my hold the key to unlocking that mystery, but personality clashes with their new part-demon mission specialist and a chance meeting with another Immortal and a group of mercenaries may complicate things. All the while, John Dallas is planning his endgame.

This story is a sequel to "The Last Slayerette"

(3/?)

At the briefing the next morning, there was a buzz in the air. It was a mix of excitement and apprehension. But despite that, or maybe because of it, there was also a general feeling of duty and professionalism. There was no more arguing or questioning motives, it was all business. Everyone was aware that the stakes had just gotten a lot higher, and they were pulling out their A-game. It made Xander glad to see that no matter what color their uniforms were, these men and women were Starfleet, and that meant that they would always give one hundred and ten percent to get the job done, no matter what it was, no matter what the odds.

Lt. Commander Brubaker was at the head of the room, going over the results of the scans that he had taken of the spire from the Jakul village. "Our initial scans didn't pick up much more than slightly elevated background radiation. It wasn't until we switched to the deep tachyon scan that we started to get a look at the inside of it. It's heavily shielded. Whether that's to protect from radiation or to conceal what it is, I don't know."

"So the radiation levels inside are higher?" Ami asked.

Brubaker nodded. "Hawking radiation and neutrino levels are both high." He touched the screen and the image changed to a cross section of the spire. "Some of the structures here I recognize but most of them are too alien for me to even begin to guess what they do. This looks like a capacitor of some kind, and this area could be a force field generator."

"So the spire itself is a mechanical device of some sort, it isn't just built around some natural phenomenon?" Counselor Dennan asked?

Lt. Graav shook his head and spoke up. "There was nothing in my scans that would indicate any natural source for that type of radiation."

"It's technological," Brubaker continued. "But I wouldn't call it mechanical. There are no moving parts as far as I can tell. And I can't discern a power source of any kind."

"Could it be geo-thermal?" Ami asked. "Does the structure extend underground at all?"

"Several kilometers at least," the alien technologies officer answered. "We can't be sure exactly, something in the bedrock kept interfering with our scans."

"I had the same problem," Graav added. "I'd love to do a full geological survey of the planet, but that would require a lot of digging and a lot of time that we don't have. All of my preliminary scans showed nothing out of the ordinary, but there's more here than meets the eye."

"Do you have a theory, Commander, as to what the device in the spire is exactly? What its purpose is?" Ami asked Brubaker.

"I believe that it contains a micro-wormhole or dimensional tear of some kind. The purpose of the device seems to be to absorb energy of some kind, store it, and then transmit it through the wormhole. Where that wormhole leads, we have no way of knowing."

"The Realm of Souls," Boon said aloud. All eyes turned to her.

"This is just a theory of course, it's impossible to say for sure unless I could take scans while this thing was in action," Brubaker said.

Boon shook her head. "We checked already, there are no recent dead in the village so it doesn't look like we'll be able to witness a death ceremony any time soon."

"We can't even be sure what exactly activates it," Brubaker said. "The presence of a body on the altar, the words that are spoken, it could even be powered by the collective telepathy of the Jakul themselves. We have no way to know." He turned to Boon. "Could we ask the Jakul to just go through the motions, see if that activates it?"

Boon again shook her head. "They would consider that to be…in poor taste."

"We'll have to make do with what we have. Thank you, Commander," Ami said. Brubaker nodded and retook his seat. "Lt. sh'Dane, why don't you give your report next."

The Andorian shen nodded and stood, making her way to the front of the room with a PADD in her hand. "Well, the first major discovery that we made regarding the Jakul language is that although they have only one spoken language they have two distinctly different written languages. The hieroglyphs that they use on the icons that they wear around their necks are part of a language that they refer to as high script. It's more formal and the Jakul use it for writings that are official, or special. The inscription on the spire that the priest speaks during the death ceremony is in high script. The second written language is called common form, and just as it sounds, it's used for common day-to-day purposes. It's a standard alphabet style language, completely unlike the hieroglyphs."

"But, there's no real cultural diversity among the Jakul," Dr. Treezil commented. "Not enough to see completely different language forms like this."

"Exactly," sh'Dane agreed. "And the two forms have no commonality, which you would expect had they evolved on the same planet from the same species. I think that this is further proof that these spires were built by an alien race."

"How can the two forms have no commonality if they are both used to write the same spoken language?" Xander asked.

"It's analogous to taking a word in Andori and spelling it phonetically using Klingon characters. A Klingon could read it, but it wouldn't mean anything to him. Just like the inscription on the spire doesn't mean anything to the Jakul. At some point in their past, they adopted the language to their own spoken language, either by assigning sounds to the symbols randomly, or else they knew the sounds the characters made and used them accordingly. Hopefully it's the latter, that will give us a chance to decipher the original language and translate the writings on the spire and some of the other ancient artifacts in the village."

"That would also mean that the Jakul had contact with the race that built the obelisks," Boon added.

"I'm running the hieroglyphs through the linguistics database now. If the spire-builders had contact with any other planets in the region and influenced their languages, hopefully we can find enough commonality for a translation."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Ami said. "Nice work."

The young linguist beamed. "Thank you, Captain," she said before returning to her seat.

"Dr. Kur'Woo, anything unusual turn up on your medical scans?" Ami asked the Efrosian medical officer seated at the other end of the table.

"The Jakul possess a very interesting brain chemistry," he started. "The neural pathways that are created whenever they learn or experience something new seem to trigger an endorphin response. I think this is why their society has evolved so quickly. They literally get a rush from learning and expanding their minds."

"What about their telepathy?" Ami asked.

"Remarkable," Boon answered. "I thought I understood what the Kob'ya was, but nothing prepared me for experiencing it."

"So, you felt drawn to the spire the way the Jakul do?" Ami asked.

"Not drawn to it necessarily, but I understand why the Jakul do. When I was near the spire, I felt my abilities…intensify. It's hard to explain, everything became more clear and vibrant. It was an amazing experience. For the Jakul who experience a sense of community and belonging through their telepathic bond with each other, intensifying that further would be…transcendent."

"It's possible that the spire contains some sort of technology that increases telepathic ability," Brubaker said. "There's enough inside that thing that I can't identify that I certainly can't rule it out."

"Could this have been done on purpose to attract the Jakul to the obelisks by these…spire-builders?" Ami asked.

"God, are we really going to call them that?" Xander asked.

Ami looked at him. "NegaVamps," she said with a cheeky smile.

"Touché," Xander said.

"It seems likely," Boon said between strange glances at Ami and Xander. "Today on the planet I intend to find out as much as I can about the Jakul's recorded history, if they have any knowledge of their species making contact with these aliens."

"I'd like to join you if I could," Dr. Treezil asked.

"Of course," Boon said, nodding toward the Denobulan anthropologist.

"So would I," Dennan spoke up with a cheery smile. "Sounds fascinating."

"The more the merrier, Counselor," Boon said.

"I'd like to bring down some more equipment and try to get a better scan of the spire," Brubaker said. "Dr. Kydir, if you would assist me."

"Of course," the Vulcan answered with a solemn nod.

"Very well," Ami said. "Anything else?"

"I'd like to remain onboard and complete a more in depth analysis of the data that I collected yesterday," Dr. Kur'Woo said. "I already have a full set of scans so there isn't much more I can do on the planet."

"Agreed," Graav said. "There isn't much more that I can do on the surface either. I will use Discovery's sensors to take more planet-wide geological scans."

"And I'd like to tour some more of the ancient sites in the village to try and find more examples of the original hieroglyph language," Lt. sh'Dane said.

"All right," Ami nodded. "Xander, you wanted to say a word about the new security measures."

Xander nodded and turned to the group. "Keep in mind that just because you can't see any security officers doesn't mean that they aren't around. We're keeping a low profile so as not to scare the Jakul and hopefully lure in the mercenaries. If you run into any trouble just shout, someone will hear you and respond. If any of you want to request a security escort while you're on the planet please see either me or Lt. Gibson. Also, if you see or hear anything unusual, or if you see any technology that doesn't belong to us or the Jakul please let someone in security know immediately. Just keep in mind that our main priority here is the safety of the Jakul. We've done enough damage here, we don't need to make it any worse. Any questions?"

None were forthcoming. "Very well," Ami said. "Dismissed."

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The Alien Technologies Lab aboard Discovery was a small space, but it was well organized. The domain of Lt. Commander Kevin Brubaker, he took pride in his work, and he took his job seriously. In the center of the room there was a project table. Xander had once heard Brubaker describe it as a bio-bed for technology. Currently sitting on the table and attached to its sensors was a rapier, with an ornate hand guard and a tassel attached to the pommel. Soul Vessel, the sword supposedly contained the quickenings of a thousand Immortals, killed by John Dallas. Most of the research thus far into how the sword worked had been conducted in this room. Brubaker and his team didn't know anything about Immortals, all they were told was that the sword somehow contained the life force of close to a thousand beings, and to figure out how it worked without destroying it. So far, they had been less than successful. It contained some kind of capacitor, but no discernible power source. And what attracted the quickenings to the sword in the first place, instead of being absorbed into the nearest Immortal? They didn't know. Xander looked down at the sword and found himself wishing, and not for the first time, that he hadn't killed Steven Hardcross, the device's inventor. But at the time he had had no choice.

Ami and Dr. Boon were standing around the project table with Xander while Brubaker sat at one of the consoles behind them, readying his instruments to gather as much data during this procedure as he could. Xander looked up and made eye contact with Rachel Boon. In just a few short days she had gone from antagonist to unlikely ally. He saw in her now instead of arrogance, determination. Instead of short-sightedness, compassion. In the look they shared it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing. They hoped that she could help.

"We're ready," Brubaker said from his console.

Xander nodded. "Are you ready?" he asked Boon.

"I think so. I've never tried to make telepathic contact with a sword before," the quarter-demon answered.

"Whatever information you can give us will be helpful," Xander said.

Boon took a deep breath before reaching down and placing her fingertips on the side of the blade. They were there for just a moment before she jerked both her hands away as if she had been burned.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Ami asked.

"I'm fine, sorry. I just…wasn't expecting such a strong reading. I just need to…put up a few more mental guards." She closed her eyes and after a few seconds, she placed just two fingers on the blade. She winced slightly, but didn't pull away. Her face was scrunched in concentration. "Pain…loss…it's like listening to hundreds of voices screaming at once, I can only make out some of it." She placed two fingers from her other hand further down the blade, closer to the hilt. Her eyes stayed closed but her head was moving back and forth as she tried to focus. "Confusion…anguish…I don't, I can't…I don't understand…too much…"

"Rachel, can you hear me?" Ami asked. Boon didn't respond. Ami looked over to Xander, a concerned look on her face. "If she becomes overwhelmed she may not be able to find her way out, she won't be able to break contact."

"Her heart rate and respiration are both elevated," Brubaker said from his console. "We should have had a medic on standby."

Ami tapped her combadge. "Medical team to the Alien Technologies Lab."

"What…what do you want?" Boon said suddenly. "What happened to you?" She looked scared.

"Rachel, you have to try to break the connection," Ami said to her. If the half-Betazoid heard her, she gave no indication.

"There's some kind of energy surge in the sword," Brubaker said. "I can't pinpoint where it's coming from."

Xander looked at Boon. He felt guilty for having put her in this position, and he wanted to help her. He wasn't thinking clearly, and he did something enormously stupid. He touched her. "Rachel," he said, as he raised his arm toward her.

"No, Xander don't!" Ami called out. But it was too late.

His hand touched her arm, and in that instant Xander was no longer standing in the Alien Technologies Lab. He was no longer in his body as far as he could tell. He was floating, formless, in an empty gray void. There was a sensation at first that he could only describe as immense pressure, even though he had no physical body to feel it. His non-telepathic brain tried to sort through the information that it was receiving and interpret it. After what could have been a few seconds or a few years, the pressure became noise, and then voices. Hundreds of voices, talking at once. Some were screaming, some crying, at least one was laughing psychotically. Around him in the gray void he began to see a mist. And then slowly the mist broke apart into many separate shapes, and each of those shapes started to solidify into a figure. They were human, but they were still gray and faded, like they were made of the mist. He saw men and women alike. Some held swords and still appeared to be locked in combat. Some wandered aimlessly, like they didn't know where they were. Some of the figures were headless, and most of them appeared to have gunshot wounds on their bodies. This was the source of the voices as they shouted in anger or cried in anguish.

At first, they didn't seem to notice him. And then suddenly, he locked eyes with one. It was Steven Hardcross, his clownish red hair now the color of dishwater. Contempt and hatred burned in his eyes as he stared daggers at Xander. He looked down and realized that he had a body now too, gray and translucent like an old faded film. And then, as if they shared a single consciousness, all of the figures turned to him, staring at him like he was the source of their ire. He tried to speak but found that he had no voice. The hoard closed in around him, pressing in on him, clawing and swinging at him. He felt his mouth open in a soundless scream. And then, just as suddenly as he felt himself appear in this place, he felt himself being pulled away, like he was deep underwater and his body's buoyancy was pulling him rapidly toward the surface.

Xander's eyes opened and he inhaled sharply. He was lying on the floor in the Alien Technologies Lab with a confused looking med-tech kneeling over him with a tricorder in his hand. "He's alive! But, there was no brain activity, no heartbeat, no respiration, I don't understand…" he trailed off as he stared intently at his medical tricorder. Xander sat up but stayed on the floor for the moment, his head was swimming. Ami and Boon were at his side in moments.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Ami said, dismissing the med-tech. "Everything seems to be fine now, you can go. Why don't you run a diagnostic on that tricorder, it must be malfunctioning."

"Aye, Captain. I will," he said. He ambled out of the room, still looking at the device in his hands and shaking his head.

"How do you feel?" Ami asked.

"Like my head has just been sucked through a black hole," Xander answered. "What happened?"

"I'm a touch telepath," Boon answered. "So when you touched me…"

"I saw what you saw," Xander said in realization. His face fell. "Then it's even worse than I thought."

"What did you see?" Ami asked.

Xander paused, trying to find the words to describe it. "Purgatory," he said.

"Not necessarily," Boon said. "What we saw could have been…telepathic after images. This sword has been used to kill so many, it makes sense that there would be an impression left behind."

Xander shook his head. "Immortals aren't telepaths."

"Maybe not consciously, but you're certainly not entirely human either. The properties of these…quickenings are still largely unknown, at least scientifically speaking. It's possible that they could leave a psychic impression of some kind."

Xander could tell that she was just trying to make him feel better, that she didn't really believe what she was saying. He appreciated it, but at the same time he didn't need platitudes, he needed answers. "I may not be a telepath, but that didn't feel like an impression to me, it felt like the real thing." Rachel didn't disagree.

Xander raised his arms up, Rachel and Ami each took one and helped him to his feet. He felt dizzy for a moment, but shook it off. "So what about you?" he asked Rachel. "How did you break the connection?"

"When you connected it provided a…distraction. Without the…entities focusing on me, I was able to regain my control. You saved my life," she said with a soft smile. "For a non-telepathic brain like yours to experiences such a high level of stimulus, I'm surprised you weren't killed in the process."

"I believe I was, actually," Xander said. "But I got better." He looked around and noticed for the first time since he woke up that the three of them were alone in the Alien Technologies Lab. "Where's Brubaker?"

"He picked up a power spike from the sword during Rachel's contact, he's analyzing the data now," Ami answered.

Xander nodded. There was a quiet determination in his eyes, and a sadness. Ami was worried for him. She knew that whatever he had experienced had only deepened his resolve to free the lost souls trapped in the sword.

"Well, I guess there's nothing more that we can do then," he said. "We should get down to the planet."

"Are you going to oversee security again?" Rachel asked.

"No, I'm going to do a little recon. Talk to the villagers, see if any of them have seen anything or anyone unusual."

"If you don't mind a little free advice," Rachel said. "Take something with you that they've never seen before, something unusual. You'll endear yourselves to them by sharing with them new information and a new experience, they'll be much more eager to return the favor. Not that they would hide something from you intentionally, but they may be more apt to reveal something that they themselves might not even realize is important."

Xander smiled thoughtfully. "I think I have just the thing."

888888888888888888

When Xander walked into the village with Scooby by his side, he was expecting some interesting reactions. Surprise, alarm, maybe even fear. He knew the Jakul would be curious but what he wasn't expecting was the sheer delight that the strange animal seemed to engender. No one seemed the least bit afraid. And Scooby, while wary around so many strangers, was very well behaved in return. He took his cues from Xander and from the Jakul themselves and didn't see any of them as a threat. In fact, his initial trepidation faded rather quickly and he seemed to enjoy the extra attention.

He moved through the village, trying to appear casual, talking to people as he went. He kept his eyes open, observing the strategically placed security personnel. A few of them nodded to him in passing, signifying that everything was fine. He talked to the Jakul. He managed to nonchalantly probe them for information about what they had seen or heard. So far none of them had seen anything unusual in the village, apart from Scooby of course. It made Xander nervous. It wasn't like Klingons to slow play, which meant that Banner was more than likely pulling the strings. And Xander wasn't sure if he could predict the other Immortal's next move.

At some point Xander found himself outside of the blacksmith shop. He could smell the acrid smoke from the primitive stone forge and hear the sound on metal striking metal. Xander had an interest in metallurgy, specifically sword making, but he found the process in general to be fascinating as well. He was curious about how the Jakul had developed the knowledge and techniques involved so quickly. The building was made from stones and mortar, the only one like it that he had seen in the village. He stepped inside, Scooby at his heels, and found the blacksmith. He was tall, with deep red skin and yellow eyes. He was shirtless, apart from the crude leather apron that covered part of his midsection. Xander could see the necklace hanging from his neck displaying the small wooden icons that the Jakul used as symbols of their life experiences. Some of the icons on his necklace appeared to be metal. He was pounding his hammer against a red hot piece of iron on his anvil, what appeared to be a bladed farming implement of some kind. After a few more hits, he took the item with the tongs that he was holding and dunked it into a bucket of water. Steam rose up and filled the room. At that point he looked up and noticed Xander. "Good day," he said with a smile.

"Good day," Xander replied.

"I'm pleased to welcome a starfarer into my humble shop. What can I do for you today?"

"My name is Xander. I'd like to…share experiences," Xander said, using the phrase that he had heard other Jakul speak. "Our goal here is to learn as much about your people as we can, and I'm traveling through the village today speaking with people so that I can do that."

His smile seemed to grow. "Wonderful!" he said. "I see that you travel with an animal. What a majestic creature, what is it called?"

"He's a razor-cat, and his name is Scooby. He has been my…companion for many years."

The blacksmith approached, taking a knee in front of Scooby he stroked his flank gently. "A remarkable animal," he said, rising to his feet again. "My name is Dern," he said, holding his hand out in a stilted gesture. Xander assumed that he had seen the motion before, possibly among the crew of the Pennsylvania. He reached out and shook his hand.

"I'm curious how your people developed the way to create and work metal the way you do," Xander said. "It's something that the group of starfarers that were here seventeen years ago didn't report seeing. Did someone from their group explain the process to your people?"

"I do not believe so, though I was young at the time. I learned the trade from my father, who in turn learned from a metal worker from a different village. His name was Loosis, from the village Ky'lan. It's about a two day journey from here, in the direction where the sun sets. The legend goes that Loosis was a stone worker, and that one day while travelling through the mountains to search for materials, he was given the knowledge. Some say it came from the Kob'ya, Loosis was fond of saying that it came from the rocks themselves. He was kind of an eccentric old man," Dern said with a fond smile.

"Interesting," Xander said. Several theories came to mind. If the Kob'ya truly did strengthen the Jakul's telepathy and their sense of community with each other, maybe it created a hive subconscious mind of sorts. A group think that allowed new ideas to be created and processed at a rate far quicker than a single mind. Or, perhaps this Loosis character simply found something in the mountains that came from the spire builders, something that inspired the idea or even explained the process fully. Xander made a mental note to locate this nearby village and perhaps pay it a visit as well if time permitted. There may be more left behind on this planet by the spire builders than just the spires themselves.

"Jalen," Dern called out. "Come out here, we have a visitor." From a back room in the shop a young boy emerged. Xander realized that it was the same boy that he had met the day before in the village square. "This is my son, Jalen. Jalen this is…"

"Xander!" the boy said excitedly.

"We met yesterday," Xander said. "So, how are things working out with your new pet?"

"Great! Is this your pet? Wow!" The boy ran over to Scooby and started petting him. He purred and leaned his head into Jalen's touch.

Xander smiled. "His name is Scooby."

"You should come home with me so they can play together! Father, can we? I finished stacking the wood."

Dern smiled at his son. "Okay, Jalen. That is, if Xander wants to go with you."

"Sure, I'd love to."

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The more time he spent in the village the more Xander found himself admiring the Jakul. They lead simple lives, but they lived them to the fullest. They didn't fear things that were different, they simply sought to learn about them. Always seeking to expand their knowledge but never forgetting where they came from, clinging to the values that were important to them. Hard work, loyalty, community. In a way they were all like Jalen, children filled with wonder, with a bright future ahead of them. He wondered what their society would be like by the time Jalen was a man. Would they reach an industrial age by then, develop electricity and machinery, build a transportation system maybe or build sailing ships and explore their world's oceans? How long before they reached the stars? Or would they even get the chance. He knew better than anyone what a harsh galaxy surrounded them, how easily they could be taken advantage of by some superpower. Xander had opened Pandora's box here, he just hoped that he would be able to close it.

"What's your ship like?" Jalen asked, breaking Xander's introspection.

"The Discovery? Well, she's 345 meters long, has 15 decks, weighs around 700,000 tons…" He trailed off when he looked down and saw Jalen's confused expression. "She's a great ship, and she's got a great crew."

"How many people are on it?"

"About 150."

"Are you all from the same planet?"

"Oh no, there are many different species serving aboard Discovery. There are over 150 planets in the Federation, all working and living together."

"Wow! Do you think the Jakul could join the Federation someday?"

Xander smiled. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least."

Jalen smiled too and skipped a little as he walked. "So, what does your ship do?"

"Well, we're a science ship. So we fly around and explore, discover new things and study them, try to understand them better. That's why we're here now, to try to understand your people and your planet better."

"Are you a scientist?"

Xander laughed. "No, I'm not. My job is to keep everyone safe on the ship, to protect them."

"Protect them from what?"

"Lots of things. Space can be a pretty dangerous place."

"I never thought that learning new things could be dangerous."

"Well…it's complicated. The purpose of Starfleet is to explore, to learn new things. Yes, sometimes it can be dangerous, but it's worth it. Because we get to meet people like you."

Jalen laughed and skipped again. They were close to his home now so he ran ahead to tell him mother that he was there. Xander stayed outside where he found the goat-like creature from the day before, a togar if he recalled correctly, inside of a small pen. Scooby and the togar sniffed each other. A moment later Jalen came skipping out of the small structure that was their home. He ran to the pen and started petting the creature inside.

"Hello, Xander," Jalen said. It took Xander a moment to realize that he was talking to the animal. He smiled. "Mom said it's okay to let him out as long as I make sure that he doesn't run away." Xander nodded. There was a large field next to the small home. A small portion of it looked like it was cultivated for planting, but most of it was just covered with grass.

Xander reached down and stroked Scooby on the side of the neck, then leaned down to him. "This one's not food, Scoob. Play nice." The big cat just purred before following Xander the goat-thing out into the field.

"I think they like each other," Jalen said.

The two talked for a while while they watched the animals play. Xander managed to subtly ask if the boy had seen anything unusual recently in the village, but again the answer was no. Xander learned that in addition to the blacksmith shop, Jalen's family also farmed a bit and traded what they grew in the village market for whatever else they needed. The boy was happy to help his family, but his interests lied with broader things. Discovery, exploration, he talked of venturing outside of the village with his friends and exploring through the hills, of traveling with his father to other villages. It seemed like more than even the other Jakul, Jalen craved new and different experiences.

"So what do you want to do when you grow up?" Xander asked. "Be a metal worker like your father?"

"I don't think so," Jalen said. "I want to do something that no one's ever done before. I just don't know what that is yet."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Jalen!" the boy's mother called, coming out of the small wigwam structure. "It's almost time for evening meal, can you go get your father please?"

"Yes, mother." He returned his pet to its pen, and then Jalen, Xander and Scooby made their way back to the village. Dusk was approaching and the sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow on everything.

They were close to the village square when Xander heard an unusual high-pitched whine. It took a half a second to realize that it was a transporter, and another half second to process that it wasn't the sound of a Starfleet transporter. Xander turned toward the noise in time to see six columns of orange light materialize in the town square and turn into six Klingon warriors brandishing disruptor pistols. Another couple of seconds passed before anyone else seemed to notice them as they started making their way toward a group of Jakul that were congregated near the marketplace. A red energy beam lashed out from somewhere and struck one of the Klingons, knocking him to the ground. And that's when the shooting started.

"Get down!" Xander yelled to Jalen, pushing him away as he drew his own phaser and ran toward the melee. Scooby was fast on his heels. Starfleet security seemed to come out of everywhere to attack the Klingons and it was clear that they weren't expecting such a force or they would have sent more men. Xander's hidden security measures had succeeded in drawing out the Klingons, unfortunately it drew them into a direct attack.

A preprogramed series of taps on his combadge instantly opened a channel to all of the security personnel that were planet side. "Stay between them and the Jakul!" Xander said. "Keep the combat close so they can't use their disruptors!" Xander already saw disruptor bolts ripping through the air, he had no idea if any of them were making contact with anyone. He got off a shot with his own phaser, striking a Klingon in the shoulder before there were too many Starfleet security officers in the way. He holstered his phaser just as he reached the nearest Klingon and threw a haymaker at his head. With his other hand he grabbed the warrior's wrist and kept his disruptor pointed at the ground. He landed two more punches before the Klingon shoved him to the ground. He stood over him then, disruptor at the ready.

"Scooby, vampire!" Xander yelled. The razor cat leapt into the air and landed on the Klingon's back, sinking his teeth into his shoulder. The warrior cried out in pain as he crumpled to the ground. Xander reached into his sleeves and pulled out two throwing knives from the bracers that he still wore under his uniform jacket. He lashed out with his foot, sweeping the legs out from under another nearby Klingon, knocking him to his back. Xander threw himself on top of the mercenary and plunged one of the knives into the shoulder of his shooting arm, causing him to drop the disruptor pistol that he held. The Klingon struck Xander with his fist and he shoved him off of him with his other arm. Xander scrambled to his feet, throwing the other knife before he was even all the way up. It struck the Klingon in the thigh. Growling again in pain, the Klingon reached down to pull the knife free. Xander pulled is phaser, which was set to heavy stun, and fired it. The Klingon collapsed, unconscious.

Xander looked through the ruckus at the rest of the Klingons and saw Discovery's security officers handling them. Lt. Gurf was grappling with one who was sporting some rather nasty looking claw marks across his face, no doubt courtesy of the large Caitain's own talons. Another officer, a Vulcan, was taking down another Klingon with a nerve pinch. Xander saw only one Klingon now that wasn't unconscious or engaged, sneaking away in the chaos, making his way toward a crowd of aghast Jakul onlookers, his disruptor at the ready. They weren't looking to kill, Xander realized. The weapons were for intimidation. They wanted to kidnap a Jakul. The probes from Discovery along with the transporter inhibitors kept them from choosing a different village on the planet, they thought they could make a quick assault and leave with their quarry. And if Xander didn't do something fast, he realized, they still might.

Xander ran toward the Klingon and dove at him, tackling him from behind and sending them both tumbling to the ground. His disruptor flew out of his hand. They rolled together on the ground until they finally came to a stop with Xander on top. He drew two more throwing knives from his sleeves and held them in a downward grip, ready to bring them down. The Klingon tapped the communicator on his arm and spoke one word. "Extract!" In an instant all six of them were awash in orange light, and then gone as the transporter took them. Just as quickly as the assault had begun, it was over.

"How did they get through the transporter inhibitors?" someone asked.

"They must have personal pattern enhancers," someone else answered. "That's why they couldn't just beam anyone up, they had to come down to plant the enhancers."

"Check to see if anyone needs medical attention!" Xander barked. "And contact Discovery, see if they can track those transporter beams and find that ship!" The officers scattered, carrying out their orders. Xander looked around himself to see if he could see anyone injured and realized that he didn't see Jalen anywhere.

"Jalen! Jalen, where are you?!" Xander rushed back to where he had been standing with the boy when the Klingons first beamed down, looking frantically for where he could have hidden. "Jalen!" He heard a moaning sound and his head whipped around to the source of the sound. On the ground, between a log building and a barrel that looked to be setup to collect rainwater, he saw a pair of legs sticking out. Xander rushed over and pushed the barrel out of the way, hitting his knees he lifted the limp boy up to him. There was a small burn mark on his chest and he was barely breathing. Xander slapped his combadge. "Medical emergency, two to beam directly to Sickbay!"


End file.
